Year-book of the Reformation

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MARTIN LUTHER.

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THE

OF THE

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EDITED BY

B. KURTZ, D. D. and J. G. MORRIS, D. D,

PRINTED AT PUBLICATION ROOMS,
NO. 7, SOUTH LIBERTY STREET.

1844.

EMBELLISHMENTS.

Page.

I. Martin Luther — Frontispiece,

II. Catharine de Bora, ------ 99

III. Luther's Family, ------ 104

IV. Death of Alexis, Luther's Friend, - - - - 117

V. Death of Luther, ------ 130

VI. Luther nailing up his Theses, - 136

VII. Luther Apprehended, ----- 149

VIII. Philip Melancthon, ------ 154

IX. Luther fray's for Melancthon, - - - 163

X. John Calvin, - - - - - - 167

XI. John Reuchlin, - - - - - -185

XII. Luther's Cell, - - - - - - 195

XIII. Ulric Zwingli, ------ 205

XIV. Erasmus, ------- 225

XV. Luther burning the Pope's Bull, - - - - 235

XVI. Luther translating the Bible, - 259

XVII. Facsimile of Luther's Autograph, - 275

XVIII. Facsimile of Melancthon's Autograph,

XIX. The Diet of Worms, - - - - - 299

XX. John Oecolampadius, ----- 305

XXI. Facsimile of Calvin's Autograph, - - - - 363

XXII. Facsimile of Zwingli's Autograph, - - -

Act f7£.

CONTENTS.

Page.

Necessity and Blessings of the Reformation. By J. G. Morris, 11

Night and Morning. — A Contrast. By Prof. H. I. Smith, - 32
Predictions. — By B. Kurtz, --------40

Prophetic Dream of Frederick the Wise. By B. S. - - 48

Predictions respecting Luther and the Reformation. By B. K. 54

Healing of the Blind. By Rev. E. Yeales Reese, - 64

Luther's Visit to Rome. By J. G. M. - - - - - - 67

Passages in the Life of Luther. By B. K. - - - 85, 98, 126

Lines. By Miss M. A. E. Reese, 96

Luther becomes a Monk. By B. K. - - - - - - 119

The Theses of Luther. By J. G. M. - - - - - - 138

The Waldenses. By Rev. S. P. Hill, 146

The Ambuscade. By Prof. H. I. Smith, - - - - - 151

Luther and Melancthon. By Pres. Krauth, D. D. - - - 154

John Calvin. By a Lutheran, ------- 169

John Reuchlin. By J. G. M. - - - - - - - 187

Luther's Cell in Erfurt, -------- 195

Lines. By a Divine of the Dutch Reformed Church, - - - 203

Ulric Zwingli. By Lewis Mayer, D. D. - - - - - 205

Erasmus. By Rev. A. Webster, 225

Luther burning the Pope's Bull. By A. A. Miiller, D. D. - - 235

Castle of Wartbcrg. By Charles A. Hay, - - - - 241

Luther translating the Bible. By A. A. Miiller, D. D. - - 259

The Discussion at Leipzig. By Prof. J. H. Agnew, - - - 265

Facsimile of Luther's Autograph, ------ 275

Ulrich von Hutten. By Prof. W. M. Reynolds, - - - 279

Facsimile of Melancthon's Autograph, ----- 298

Thf. Diet of Worms. By N. C. Brooks, 299

John Oecolampadius. By P. G. S. - - - - - - 305

Comparative View of the Primitive Church of Christ

and that of the Early Reformers. By Prof. S.

S. Schmucker, D. D., 316

Farel the Priest-Scourge. By Prof. J. W. Nevin, D. D. - - 329

Facsimile of Calvin's Autograph. ------ 363

Maurice and the Emperor. By Prof. C. F. Schseffei, - - - 367

Facsimile of Zwingli's Autograph, ------ 383

The Counter Reformation. By Prof. H. L. Baugher, - - - 385

The Liar-Murderer. By R. J. Breckinridge, - - - - 401

PREFACE.

The publication of that class of books usually denominated
Jlnnuals, originated in Germany; — emphatically the land of
useful invention and valuable discovery. The example thus
exhibited, was speedily imitated in France, England and other
transatlantic countries ; and it required but little time to extend
its influence to the United States, where it has prevailed to an
extent bordering on satiety. If the intrinsic merits of our
American Annuals had corresponded with the external elegance
with which they have generally been gotten up, their rapid
multiplication would have been hailed by every friend of polite
literature and refined morals as an auspicious omen. But while
we take pleasure in according the well-earned meed of com-
mendation to a select number of them, including especially
those of a religious character ; we hazard little when we pro-
nounce the most of them to be dull and dry, and not a few,
light and frivolous, and altogether unworthy of their gorgeous
and costly trappings. In some instances the plates were " sec-
ond-hand," inferior and inappropriate, and occasionally even
indelicate ; and frequently the contents were adapted to foster
a corrupt taste and wound the cause of sound morality, rather

8 PREFACE.

than to illumine the intellect and improve the heart. As a strong
jjenchant for this species of publications has thus been exten-
sively created, so that a considerable portion of the community
are determined to have Annuals at all events, is it not the part
of wisdom to aim at superseding those trashy productions, by
furnishing something, falling indeed under the same rubrique,
but of an instructive, substantial and profitable character? — Such
is the opinion of the editors ; and actuated by this consideration,
they offer to the public thehr "Year-Book of the Reforma-
tion." Whether it really possess in any tolerable degree those
claims on patronage with which they so sedulously endeavored
to invest it, remains for a discerning and impartial community
to decide. If however, their success bear any proportion to
their anxiety effectually to supply the desideratum in question,
they flatter themselves that the enterprize will meet with a
favorable reception.

The cuts in this volume, illustrating some of the principal
scenes of the Reformation, are all new and have been imported
from Europe expressly for the "Year-Book" at a heavy out-
lay. The individuals who have kindly enriched its pages with
contributions, are all gentlemen of high moral worth, and for
the most part of well-known reputation in the republic of let-
ters ; — their trusty pens would shed effulgence upon any subject
on which they should think proper to wield them.

But the pervading theme of the Year-Book, — the Reforma-
tion of the sixteenth century, — constitutes one of its chief re-
commendations. That glorious epoch is confessedly one. of
deep and absorbing moment, and the portentous signs of the

PREFACE, 9

times have called it up afresh to our memories and thrown
around it a surpassing degree of interest. It has accordingly
been a prominent object with us, to awaken increased attention
to that mighty revolution in thought and principle, and a higher
degree of reverence and admiration for those elements of civil
and religious liberty, which its triumphant progress gradually
developed and ultimately established. It has also entered essen-
tially into our design, to furnish to the plain reader who may
lack time or inclination for more extensive research, such mate-
rials, judiciously selected and elaborated, as might be best cal-
culated to enlighten his mind in reference to the thrilling scenes
and transcendent achievements of the eventful sixteenth century.
Nor did we deem it inconsistent with our plan, to incur extra
expense and trouble in order to effect this by means so attrac-
tive and in a form so inviting, as to constrain him steadily to
contemplate those scenes and achievements, and more highly to
appreciate the distinguished services of the illustrious actors as
well as the inestimable blessings resulting from their labors. If
we have succeeded only in a moderate measure to accomplish
all or any of these great purposes, we shall indulge the hope
that we have not labored in vain or spent our strength for naught.
We regard the emission of the "Year-Book" as an experi-
ment, somewhat perilous indeed, in a pecuniary point of view,
but nevertheless, holding out the promise of a remuneration suf-
ficient to warrant the undertaking. We ask not and look not for
sordid gain ; more exalted motives, we trust, have suggested the
project and urged us to action. We desire to "serve our day
and generation," and should we be honored with the approba-

10 FREFACE.

tion of an enlightened Protestant public, we shall feel amply
compensated, though the pecuniary requital should fall short of
our disbursements.

May He without whom nothing good can prosper, deign to
sanction with his blessing our efforts to promote the cause of
truth.

EDITORS.

Baltimore, Jan. 1, 1844.

NECESSITY AND BLESSINGS

OF THE

REFORMATION,

BY JOHN G. MORRIS, D. D.

The reformation of the church in the sixteenth century,
constitutes not only a grand epoch in the history of Christi-
anity, but in that of the world. It was a glorious revival of
religion, of literature, of liberty, and all the best and dear-
est interests of man. It was a mighty revolution which
changed the entire character of the religious and political
world and produced beneficial effects which will be felt to
the end of time. It subverted principles which had long
been revered as divine, it introduced new modes of thought
and action, and created an extraordinary excitement through-
out the whole of Europe. It agitated the learned in their
universities, the nobles in their castles, the monks in their
cloisters and the populace in their homes.

Ecclesiastical revolutions are always momentous and never
proceed from insignificant causes. They always exert a
mighty influence on the community for good or evil, and
nothing but imperious necessity can be plead in their justi-
fication. Such moral convulsions dare not be attempted on
slight and insufficient grounds.

12 NECESSITY AND BLESSINGS

Protestants maintain that Christianity was restored to its
primitive, scriptural simplicity and integrity by the Refor-
mation-— that the temple of the Lord was purged of the foul
abominations which had tarnished its glory for ages, — that
the doctrines, precepts and ordinances of God were cleansed
of the excrescences that had been permitted to grow upon
them.

The emancipation of the church of God from the bond-
age of sin and ignorance, is a theme of delightful contempla-
tion and joyous gratitude to every genuine christian. To
behold her rousing her slumbering energies and awaking
from inactive lethargy, — to witness her disenthralment from
the shackles of superstition and fanaticism and see her dis-
playing her original glory and purity, — kindle in the heart
of every true believer the mingled emotions of praise and
admiration. Clouds of darkness lowered over Zion — her
beauty was tarnished — her doctrines corrupted, — her solemn
services neglected — her temples polluted — her ministry de-
praved— her people debased; — but the day of redemption
came and that was the glorious reformation.

Too long have Protestant christians overlooked it; — in
the multitude of their ecclesiastical privileges they have for-
gotten the wonderful providential events which have secured
them — they have been content to enjoy them without studi-
ously inquiring whence they proceed.

Will it be denied by any intelligent man that there existed
a necessity for a Reformation? Look at the condition of the
world before the sixteenth century. Consider the monstrous
dogmas in politics, religion and morals that were held. The
sovereign power of the pope over the universal church was
maintained, — it was held that every christian, under pain of
damnation was subject to him — that no appeals can be made

OF THE REFORMATION. 13

from him and that he alone is the supreme judge, but cannot
be judged by any one upon earth.

His dominion over the temporal governments of the earth was
arrogated by himself and defended by his corrupt parasites.
He maintained the right of deposing princes, of absolving
subjects from the oath of allegiance and bestowing away
kingdoms,

" Of raising monarclis to their thrones
" Or sinking them with equal ease.

Need we specify the unscriptural dogmas that were uni-
versally taught, as transubstantiation, — the celibacy of the
clergy, — the doctrine of ilxe seven sacraments — of merits — the
distinction of sins into venial and mortal — of purgatory — of
indulgences and tradition ? — all in direct opposition to the
scriptures ; — need we say any thing about the corruptions of
worship that universally prevailed? — the worship of God in
an unknown tongue — the propitiatory sacrifice of the mass — the
withholding the cup from the laity — paying divine honors to
the consecrated host — the icorship of images — the invocation of
saints — the veneration of the doubtful relics of still more
doubtful saints? — -need we dwell on the awfully corrupt state
of morals that existed among popes, cardinals, priests and
people? UI am bold to say," says the Cardinal de Cambray,
" that although they are great evils which we see, yet unless
the church be speedily reformed, we shall in a short time see
incomparably greater." It will not be thought strange that
both clergy and people should be so abominably vicious,
when we consider that the wicked lives of the popes and
cardinals were the principal cause of that deluge of corrup-
tion in which all orders of society were immersed. " If a
man would make an image of pride," says Clemango, " he
can no way do it more to the life, than by representing a

14

NECESSITY AND BLESSINGS

cardinal to the eye of the beholder." One of them return-
ing home laden with the spoils of Germany, said " that the
whole world complained of the pride and luxury of the car-
dinals."

But let us take a slight view of the popes. We need not
go back to preceding ages, in which their own historians tell
us, that they were monsters and prodigies; such tragical ex-
amples and so devoid of all piety, as neither to regard the
office they sustained, nor the place they were in; that about
fifty popes together did utterly degenerate from the virtues
of their ancestors. But passing by these, let us briefly con-
sider the character of the popes about the time of the refor-
mation, when the whole world was grown weary of their
vices and groaned to be delivered from them.

When, after the death of Innocent VIII. in 1492, Lionel,
bishop of Concordia, in an oration to the cardinals, pressed
them to elect a good man, whose life was without reproach,
what did they do? Alexander VI. was chosen, a man who
was the reproach of human nature ; who before his election
was a prodigy of lust and other vices, and continued so to
the last, when by the righteous judgment of God, he was
poisoned by mistake, in drinking the cup which he had pre-
pared for another.

Pius III. succeeded him, but he died twenty-six days after
his election.

Julius II. who next ascended the papal throne, was guilty
of crimes so notorious as to be a scandal of the whole church.
He filled Italy with rapine, blood and war, to which he was
so addicted, that contrary to the law of nations, he com-
manded the procurator of the Duke of Savoy to be tortured
because he tried to persuade him to peace. So monstrous
were his acts, that Richerius says, he must be wholly made
of steel, who can read them without horror.

OF TIIE REFORMATION. 15

Pope Leo X. in whose time the reformation began, was a
civil debonnair gentleman; but so little concerned for religion
that he cared not to know what it meant. When he admit-
ted discourses of that nature, it was for the sake of diver-
sion and to make himself sport. His soul he thought, would
live no longer than his body, and therefore he gave himself
up to sensual gratifications, and it was but reasonable that he
who supposed he should die like a beast, should live like an
epicure.

Clement YIL, as he received the popedom by simony, so
he administered it by artifice. He was an adept at dissimu-
lation. He regarded neither his word nor his oath, but vio-
lated engagements as often as he made them.

Paul III. and Julius III. followed next. The characters
given of them by papal writers, are so loathsome, that no
modest man read them without blushing.

"Such," says a historian, (Mosheim,) "was the dismal
condition of the church. Its corruption was complete, and
the abuses which its rulers permitted, reached the greatest
heights of enormity." Whilst the crimes of the Vatican
were indeed so various as to embrace almost every denomi-
nation of ungodliness, there was not one among the popes of
this period, who made even the slightest pretensions to piety;
scarcely one by whom decency, as well as morality and reli-
gion, were not greatly outraged.

The necessity of a reformation in the " head and mem-
bers" of the church had for many years been acknowledged
by several councils, and even a few of the popes had ex-
pressed themselves in favor of it. "As early as 1409, the
council of Pisa decreed a reformation; and let it be remem-
bered that this was a general council, attended by twenty-
four cardinals, a great number of bishops, archbishops and

16 NECESSITY AND BLESSINGS

other prelates, three hundred doctors of divinity and of the
canon law, and representatives of thirteen universities. The
same necessity was reiterated by three or four subsequent
councils in that century, but the work itself was as often de-
feated by the intrigues of the popes, who did not relish the
salutary discipline, aimed at their infallible holiness."

Some distinguished men, such as WiclifF, even as early as
1360, exposed in their writings and preaching the corrup-
tions of the church, but their efforts were unavailing, and
their pious labors were thwarted. In 1408, Huss arose and
attacked the prevailing superstitions, but he was soon put to
death. His disciple, Jerome of Prague, shared the same
unhappy fate. Subsequently some others distinguished them-
selves by their opposition to ecclesiastical abuses in the lat-
ter part of the fifteenth century. These were the immedi-
ate precursors of Luther, and though differing on many sub-
jects from each other and from him ; and though his inferiors
in evangelical wisdom, in intellectual power and personal
character, yet they were not without their use in preparing
the path for his triumph-
It was this distinguished man whom the Great Head of
the church, Jesus Christ, employed successfully to undertake
and carry on the work, and whom he endowed with proper
qualifications for the gigantic task. With a piety ardent,
and a zeal unquenchable ; a genius great and truly une-
qualled; a patience untiring, and fortitude almost incredible;
a moral courage invincible and learning extensive, for the
times in which he lived, he was prepared for the battle of
the Lord of hosts, and valiantly did he come up to his help
against the mighty. At first he stood alone, but soon a num-
ber of coadjutors stood by his side, and every year new and
illustrious accessories were added to the ranks of that band

OP THE REFORMATION. 17

of christian warriors. Melanchton, and Calvin, and Zwin-
gle and many others, prepared and wielded their weapons
with tremendous energy. But what were their weapons ?
They were not carnal, but mighty through God to the pull-
ing, down of strong-holds.

1. They employed the unadulterated word of God against
the human inventions that obscured the truth. Neither fire,
nor sword, nor persecution, nor civil authority were called
into requisition by them. The same spiritual armor with
which the apostles conquered Jewish prejudices and over-
turned heathen idols, was wielded by the Reformers. The
traditions and legends of the church had made the " com-
mandment of God of no effect" in Luther's time, just as it
was in the times of the Savior who so severely reproved the
Pharisees, because they "taught for doctrines, the com-
mandments of men." In Luther's time the Bible was almost
unknown. There were numerous ecclesiastics and even
bishops who had never seen it. But when that forgotten
book was brought to light and translated by Luther, the eyes
of men were opened, the corruptions of the church were
laid bare and the deep designs of Satan were exposed. The
truth shone upon a benighted world, and served only to re-
veal the appalling darkness that enveloped it. The Reform-
ers held the decrees of councils and other human inventions
in one hand and the Bible in the other, and bid men look on
the amazing difference. The contrast was too palpable for
thousands, — the force of truth was too strong, and nobles
and plebeians yielded to its convictions. The Bible was cir-
culated— and wherever it found willing readers, it worked
its miracles of grace. It was the Bible and nothing but the
Bible, that wrought that wonderful revolution. The tradi-
tions and legends of the church fell before it, as did Dagou

18 NECESSITY AND BLESSINGS

before the ark of God. Multitudes now crowded to the de-
serted churches to hear the unadulterated word, and felt that
this verily is the word of God. Luther with the Bible broke
the fatal spell that had for so many ages enchained the world
and brought forth the fundamental doctrine of salvation by
grace through Jesus Christ, and achieved a most glorious
victory over the most desperate enemy of God and man that
the world ever before saw.

2. They employed nothing but a heroic confidence in God
and his promises against the anathemas of the self-styled head
of the church, the proscription of the emperor, and the hatred
and threats of the whole world.

It was to be expected that terrible denunciations would
light upon the heads of the Reformers, for they aimed at the
destruction of a human system that had been venerated for a
thousand years — at the subversion of principles which were
revered as divine — at the eradication of prejudices which
had been entertained from infancy — at an illumination of mind
which was considered inimical to devotion, and at the dis-
semination of doctrines which overthrew the reigning super-
stitions. Accordingly, the fulminations of the Vatican were
heard — dreadful anathemas were launched against these de-
voted men — they were cursed and excommunicated — plots
were conceived for their destruction, aud their lives were in
constant jeopardy — they were arraigned before imperial
courts to answer for their heresy — they were treated with
obloquy and persecuted like malefactors. It was thus espec-
ially with the master spirit of the Reformation — the immor-
tal Luther ; but who has not gazed with astonished admira-
tion upon his unflinching fortitude, and unconquerable moral
daring ? Like David, in the name of the Lord of Hosts, the
God of the armies of Israel — he valiantly went forth and

OF THE REFORMATION. 19

met and slew the uncircumcised Goliaths of Rome — their
gigantic strength did not intimidate him, nor their lordly
menaces subdue his high souled purpose. In the strength of
the Lord he dauntlessly encountered the foe, and with no
other weapon than the sword of the Spirit, overcame him.
An ordinary man would have shrunk from the unequal com-
bat— the fires of the stake, the clanking of chains, the dis-
mal vaults of the dungeon would have alarmed him, but not
so with Luther. Conscious of the rectitude of his cause,
trusting in the arm of the Lord, he endured the conflict and
did not lean upon that arm in vain. Few men prayed like
Luther. During these eventful times, three hours every day
were devoted to private prayer. He prayed like one who
indeed spoke with God, and thus his heart was strengthened,
his faith increased and he was cheered in the prosecution of
that laborious work he was called of God to perform.
Though constantly exposed to the sword of the executioner,
yet he did not remit his exertions. He was always opposed
to the employment of force in the defence of the gospel.
He did not seek the aid of men, — he did not put his trust in
princes.

3. They employed against the calumnies of their enemies
nothing but a holy and blameless life.

Luther and his friends did not expect to be exempted from
the lot of all faithful servants of the Lord, who for his sake
are calumniated and otherwise maltreated. " If they called
the master of the house Beelzebub, how much more shall
they call them of his household P But although they in-
vented the most incredible and shameless charges against
Luther, yet what is the testimony of impartial history ? It
represents him as a man of God, distinguished for piety and
ardent zeal, abounding in works of charity and good will

20 NECESSITY AND BLESSINGS

loving his fellow men and devoting his life to their best in-
terests. But we need not vindicate his character ; an admir-
ing world has acquitted him of the base charges which his
enemies have brought against him. How great the contrast,
when placed beside his calumniators of that day, and how
greatly to the advantage of the pious reformer! The pope,
together with his cardinals and bishops, held in their hands
the wealth of the world, and lived in royal splendor ; they
clothed themselves in fme linen and purple, and fared sump-
tuously everyday; they lavished millions on their palaces,
and gloried in their extravagance, and could not say with
Peter, whose only legitimate successors they pretended to
be, "silver and gold have I none," whilst Luther was poor
all his life, and could say, " I desire neither riches nor hon-
ors." The pope and his satellites were proud, ambitious and
elevated themselves above princes, kings and emperors ; but
Luther was humble, submissive to the civil authorities, solic-
itous to avoid all parade, sensible of his imperfections, and
penitent for his sins. Whilst the pope and his consecrated
minions were indulging themselves in riotous living, and to-
tally neglected their spiritual office, Luther was laboriously
engaged night and day in preaching, teaching, writing or oth-
erwise promoting the great cause. They by their licentious
lives often brought disgrace on the cause of the Lord, but
he lived a pure and virtuous life. They defended their
power by falsehood, intrigue and force, whilst he maintained
the cause of God by truth and justice and the gospel.

But let us noio consider the blessings and benefits of the Re-
formation.

1 . It has secured to us the inestimable privilege of reading
God's word.

OF THE REFORMATION. 21

We are commanded to search the scriptures, but where
were the scriptures before the Reformation? for centuries
the Bible had been almost an unknown book. But how dif-
ferent now ! the Bible is the text book of the Protestant min-
ister— the Protestant layman is taught to search the scrip-
tures like the nobler Bereans, to see whether these things be
so. Do we love the Bible, do we delight to read the sacred
page ? are we instructed by its lessons, comforted by its pro-
mises, admonished by its warnings, guided by its precepts,
awed by its commands, transformed by its spirit ? — all this
we owe to the Reformation.

2. The Reformation has delivered the church from many lit-
urgical, doctrinal and practical corruptions, — it has secured
to us liberty of conscience and freedom from religious per-
secution. We can worship God in a language we can un-
derstand,— we can search the scriptures and judge for our-
selves— we can pursue the suggestions of our own con-
sciences— we have but one mediator between God and man,
the Man Jesus Christ — we have one advocate with the Fa-
ther, Jesus Christ, the righteous — we know that by grace
we are saved, through faith and that not of ourselves •, it is
the gift of God ; not of works, lest any man should boast ;
we have the primitive, simple ordinances of the gospel, the
cup in the sacrament for the laity, and the preached word of
life — we know that none but God can forgive sins, and we
believe in no indulgence to commit iniquity — we have no
confidence in what Pope Leo XII. says in his bull, issued
even as late as May 24, 1824, pledging "the most plenary
and complete indulgence, remission and pardon of all their
sins, " to such as during the ensuing year of Jubilee, would
visit the churches of Rome, and perform the prescribed cer-
emonies there !
2

22 NECESSITY AND BLESSINGS

The doors of the inquisition are closed — the wheel and*
the rack no longer torture victims, — fires are no longer
lighted to burn poor heretics — the whole world no longer
bows in submission to one man — the arm of the oppressor is
broken and the truth has triumphed gloriously.

2. Civil liberty was one of the inestimable results of the
Reformation.

For many ages before Luther rose to emancipate an en-
slaved world, the assimilation between the ecclesiastical and
civil government was so close, that when one was revolu-
tionized, the other could not remain undisturbed. The con-
vulsion extended to both. The church had stretched its
usurpations over the state, and ambitiously grasped the mon-
arch's sword, when she should have been contented with the
shepherd's crook. Nearly every crowned head in Europe
bowed in slavish submission to the consecrated tyrant of
Rome. Mighty kings stood bareheaded and barefooted for
three days at the gate of his palace humbly suing for an au-
dience,— potential monarchs esteemed it an honor to hold the
stirrup of his saddle when he mounted his horse. Their
subjects were sunk in the lowest depths of moral, intellec-
tual and political degradation — ignorant of their rights as
citizens, and scarcely conscious of their privileges as men.
But when the fundamental principle of the Reformation was
agitated, that each man has a right — each man is bound to
think for himself, — this immense mass was shaken — men be-
gan to open their eyes — a new impulse was given to the pub-
lic mind — every passion was aroused — they felt their oppres-
sion— a universal agitation throughout Europe was produced
— the ancient systems of despotism were shaken to their
foundations — a war of opinion was commenced. The
church of Rome said " Submit yourselves to authority with-

OF THE REFORMATION. 23

out examination." The Reformers said " Examine and sub-
mit yourselves only to conviction." Men did begin to reason
and examine principles to which they before yielded in
servile submission. The nature of the rights of man was
discussed, — they inquired by what authority the pontiffs
claimed the appointment and dethronement of kings, — and
thus were led to investigate the authority of kings them-
selves— knowledge was restored, suspicion began to be en-
tertained,— they looked with jealousy on the immense sums
of money that were sent out of the countries for the support
of Rome — the rays of light that were shed upon them served
only to reveal the thick darkness around, — wishing for free-
dom in matters of conscience and religion, they soon began
to think of freedom in matters of state. True Christianity
inspires sentiments of liberty.

Contrast the condition of Europe for some centuries be-
fore the Reformation with its present state, and who will fail
to perceive the astonishing improvement. Now, new inter-
ests have been awakened, new activity has been diffused —
new powers have been developed. Before the Reformation,
men were led like herds of cattle by their keepers, but now
they appreciate their dignity as men — they discuss their
rights — they claim to be heard. They are delivered from
the galling yoke which an ambitious clergy placed on their
necks — social order is regulated and perfected — the power-
ful governments are placed within proper limits — the weak
ones hold a place and name among the nations of the earth,
— the science of legislation has been invented — national in-
tercourse has been established on a just basis, and reciprocal
benefits are enjoyed. In those countries which have embraced
the principles of the Reformation, the supremacy of a for-
eign spiritual ruler is no longer acknowledged, — liberal prin-

24 NECESSITY AND BLESSINGS

ciples are cherished — the rights of man are freely discussed
— political liberty is one of the first lessons taught — the light
of truth shines forth — men have learned that they ought of
right to be free; — all this we owe to the Reformation. In
the language of an eloquent writer, " The Bible gave liber-
ty to Luther, and Luther with the Bible in his hand, gave
liberty to the world."

4. The progress of knowledge is another of its inappreci-
able blessings.

The intellectual condition of mankind before the Reform-
ation may be estimated from what has already been said.
What else could be expected when the abominable principle
was maintained that " ignorance is the mother of devotion."
All the learning was confined to the ecclesiastics, and princi-
cipally in the monasteries, and that for the most part con-
sisted of scholastic lore of no use for the practical purposes
of life. The most useful branches of learning were totally
neglected — the public instructors taught their pupils a most
senseless jargon, which unfitted them for usefulness in the
world. But the great body of the community were encour-
aged to remain in profound ignorance — the avenues to intel-
lectual cultivation were carefully closed up — the study of
ancient languages was regarded as the source of all heresy,
— even the Faculty of Theology at Paris, about this time,
maintained before Parliament " that religion was undone, if
the study of the Greek and Hebrew was permitted." A
respectable writer of this period says, "A new language
has been invented, which is called Greek ; guard carefully
against it, it is the mother of every species of heresy. I
observe in the hands of a great many people a book written
in this language, which they call the New Testament ; it is
a book full of thorns and serpents. With respect to He-

OF THE REFORMATION. 25

brew, my dear brethren, it is certain that all who learn it,
are instantly converted to Judaism," — the reading of the Bi-
ble, that sacred right of all christians, was severely interdic-
ted— the efforts of those in power were directed to the ex-
tinction of every spark of knowledge. The aid of the hor-
rible inquisition was employed to crush every attempt of man
to struggle into intellectual life. What a mighty revolution,
in this respect, the reformation produced. It established a
system of liberal views, of investigation, of unrestrained
criticism. Its fundamental principle was that of the apostle,
" prove all things ; hold fast that which is good." It estab-
lished the basis of intellectual improvement, which is liberty
of examination and of thought. It exposed the vanity of
the pontifical prohibition of books — it tore off the shackles
which fettered the press — it opened the doors of the libra-
ries which had been locked for so many ages. Every branch
of knowledge was renovated. Theology, philosophy, rhet-
oric, history, law, the exact sciences, politics, morals, an-
cient literature, the science of education — all were revived.
They were dragged from their obscurity ; the dust of ages
was wiped away — they were stripped of their barbarous
dress, and presented to the world revised and amended.
Multitudes of schools were established in Protestant coun-
tries for the education of the common people — numerous
universities were founded — learned men and their works
were fostered — new discoveries in the arts and sciences
were rapidly made — distant and unknown countries were
explored by enterprizing travellers — the human mind was
set at liberty, and it performed its legitimate work in enlight-
ening and improving the world. Compare Protestant coun-
tries with Romish in point of intelligence — the universities
of Germany, Great Britain and the United States with those

26 NECESSITY AND BLESSINGS

of Spain, Portugal and Italy! Compare the common people
of these respective countries, and while you glory in the in-
telligence of the people in Protestant countries,, you pity the
ignorance and superstition of the unfortunate poor in South-
ern Ireland, Portugal, Italy, Spain, and South America ! "Is
there now an American, whether of the Protestant or Ro-
mish creed, who would exchange the condition of the Pro-
testant countries of Europe for that of Southern Europe or
South America. Is it not obvious that society has been com-
paratively stationary for three hundred years in these, while
Protestant nations have been constantly advancing ? Look
at the wonderful progress of Holland, Great Britain and our
own country since the Reformation? Place them beside
Italy, Spain, and Portugal, and assign, if practicable, any
adequate causes for the incalculable difference, except the
principles of the Reformers."

" More has been done in three centuries by the Protestants,
in the profound and comprehensive, in the exact, rational and
liberal developement, culture and application of every valu-
able department of knowledge, both theoretical and practi-
cal, with a view to public and private improvement, than has
been done by all the rest of the world, both ancient and
modern, since the days of Lycurgus."

5. 77ie improvement of the world in morality was another of
its grand results.

The state of public morals before the Reformation, has
already been exhibited. The scandalous lives of many of
the popes, the shameless licentiousness of their court and
capital — the corrupt manners of the clergy, and the pro-
fligacy of the monks, contributed to exterminate almost
every vestige of morality and decency. But when the light
of the gospel shone on the dark places of iniquity, when the.

0T THE REFORMATION. 27

sacred truth was fearlessly proclaimed — when the true wor-
ship of God was restored — and the people learned their
duty, how unspeakably great was their moral improvement !
Then indeed, there was a genuine revival of religion — di-
vine service was performed in a language the people could
understand — the Bible was circulated and read — other pious
books were published and widely scattered — the means of
grace were profitably used, and the blessing of God rested
upon them.

In order to determine the influence of a Reformation on
public morals, we have only to compare those countries in
which genuine Protestantism flourishes, with those where its
conservative influence is not felt. The testimony of enlight-
ened travellers on this subject is important. In what coun-
tries are assassinations most frequent? Where is the Lord's
day most desecrated by cruel and disgraceful sports ? —
Where is the matrimonial vow least regarded ? Where is
public virtue least cherished ? Where are most crimes of
every kind committed.? Where, in fine, do the most scanda-
lous vices of every description prevail? In those countries
which have least felt the influence of the Reformation. Look
at Spain, Portugal, and South America, and just in propor-
tion as the light of Protestantism, or which is the same
thing, the religion of the Bible, prevails, are the public mor-
als sound. Machiavelli, in accounting for Italian impiety and
corruption, says, " The nearer the people are to Rome,
which is the capitol of Christianity, the less devotion they
have. The scandalous examples and crimes of the court of
Rome have occasioned Italy to lose entirely every principle
of piety and every sentiment of religion. The most of us
Italians owe, therefore, this first obligation to the church for
having become impious and profligate."

28 NECESSITY AND BLESSINGS

6. The Reformation has promoted all other pursuits that
contribute to the happiness of man.

From the numerous other blessings which have proceeded
from the Reformation, some of which have been enumera-
ted, we would natuially conclude that every thing else that
promotes the prosperity of man would also flourish. This
has been the result. Agriculture, domestic economy and
comfort, public industry, diminution of crime, the adminis-
tration of justice, increase of wealth, security of govern-
ment, the political elevation of the lower classes, and the gen-
eral welfare of the community, have all been improved by
the Reformation. The suppression of numerous holydays
which were lost to labor in Romish countries, and dimin-
ished the aggregate of national industry, has promoted the
prosperity of the people. The pursuit of useful occupa-
tions, uniting activity in trade of every kind, — the laborious
cultivation of the soil — and the exertions of honest industry,
have elevated the working classes of Protestant countries
far above the indolent and ignorant poor of Romish coun-
tries.

A distinguished writer says, " Agriculture, economy and
its various branches were in a deplorable condition. Such
is their present condition in the fine provinces of Naples,
Rome, Spain, and Portugal; poverty, indolence, immorality,
all sorts of vices are engendered among people of such dis-
positions. What activity on the contrary, what improve-
ment in agriculture, rural economy, strike the attention of
the observer, amidst the cold and infertile fields of Scotland,
in England and Holland ! Here the hand of man creates
every thing, because it labors for itself; there it is all pow-
erful, because it is free, and a suitable instruction guides it.
The contrast of these indubitable effects of the two reli-

OF THE REFORMATION. 29

gions, is more particularly perceptible in Germany and
Switzerland, where the different territories which are inter-
mixed, cause the traveller to pass continually from a Ro-
mish to a Protestant country. Does he meet with a misera-
ble mud cottage, covered with thatch, the fields badly kept,
wretched rude peasants and many beggars, he will be in lit-
tle danger of erring, if he conjecture that he is in a Romish
country. If on the contrary, neat, pleasant houses are seen,
offering the spectacle of affluence and industry, the fields
well enclosed, a culture well understood, it is very probable
he is among Protestants." Villers. p. 214.

" Who has travelled and not been struck with the sloven-
liness that reigns almost universally in Catholic countries and
which contrasts so strongly with the extreme neatness of the
Protestant countries of the north — of Holland and England.
Whence arise the apathy on one side and the activity on the
other? Whence the spirit of order and industry to the
one — to the other, carelessness and indolence ? The reason
is very evident." Ibid. p. 214, note.

Thus much for the benefits of the Reformation. What are
our obligations arising out of the Reformation ?

1. We must be thankful to God for the unspeakably great
blessings it has produced.

We have been delivered from the hand of our enemy, who
would force us to serve the Lord in a manner that is not
commanded. We have been emancipated from the most
fearful slavery — from the power of one who would rob us
of our liberty to worship God according to our own views
of right. We have received the uncorrupted word of God
and enjoy the liberty of reading and interpreting it for our-
selves. All the correct religious instruction we have receiv-
ed from our youth up to this time — all the opportunities we

30 NECESSITY AND BLESSINGS

enjoy of growing in the knowledge of Jesus Christ, we owe
to the Reformation. It has delivered us from a burdensome
ceremonial service, by which the soul is not nourished — we
are no longer directed to images and pictures — we are not
constrained to confess our sins to any man with the prospect
of absolution, nor to listen to a church service in a language
which we do not understand. We need not torment our-
selves with self-mortification — with every species of unscrip-
tural penitential exercise, with numerous fastings and pil-
grimages. We need no longer tremble at the anathemas and
interdictions of the pope — we are not afraid of being thrown
into the dungeons of the inquisition. Let us bless the Lord
for his goodness and manifest the sincerity of our gratitude
by properly estimating the numerous benefits we have re-
ceived.

2. We must exert ourselves in zealously promoting the prin-
ciples of the Reformation.

And how ? not by force or persecution. We will kindle
no fires and erect no dreadful inquisition. Let the enemy
employ those weapons, which he has always wielded with
such terrible energy. We will oppose him by fair argu-
ment. Our battle will be bloodless. We will use the armor
of light and love. We will take the word of God and ex-
pose his errors — we will exhibit his corruptions from his-
tory— we will point to the legitimate effects of his system
and then ask, can that be of God? The truth alone shall be
our weapon; whilst we respect the persons of our deluded
brethren, and admire whatever amiable qualities they may
possess as men, yet their principles we must combat — their
doctrines must be refuted — their hearts must be converted.
We will fortify our children against the evil, by indoctrinat-
ing them in the truths of the Bible, — our church members

OF THE REFORMATION. 31

must be more fully instructed in the distinctions between
them and anti-Protestants — and they must learn to value their
Protestant privileges more highly. Whilst they are taught
to exercise christian charity towards the persons of all men,
they must also learn to be zealous for the truth. The desti-
tute in our land must be supplied with the means of grace
and missionaries must be sent out to preach the gospel. The
Bible must be every where circulated, and tracts must be
sent forth as on the wings of the wind. Sunday-schools
must be established and religious intelligence universally dif-
fused. The church of God must pray ardently for the suc-
cess of his cause, — thus we will contribute to the progress
of the glorious reformation, to which we owe so much.
Then, truly, the glory of the Lord will be more brilliantly
displayed and salvation will be the theme of praise to count-
less numbers yet sitting in the darkness of ignorance and
moral death.

NIGHT AND MORNING:— a contrast.

BY REV. PROF. II. I. SMITH, OF PENNSYLVANIA COLLEGE.

See Revelation XIV. 6, 7.
PART FIRST.— Night.

I.

On mighty wing, from distant lands, whose homes,
And lofty spires his faithful ardor told,
The angel turned, once more the tow'ring domes
Of seven-hilled Rome to view. Ages had rolled
Adown the stream of time, since last his eye
Had dwelt on that vast monument of pride ;
Of pride, how humbled now, for wanton's sigh,
And am'rous song those stately columns chide,
Which rose when trumpets pealed and armor rang,
Where Tully thundered and where Virgil sang.

II.

Where holy Paul the church of God had fed.

The Medicean Leo reigned in state,

When swift the angel o'er Italia sped,

To read, in Rome's corruptions, the sad fate,

Which foul ambition, selfishness, and pride,

And avarice more foul, and viler lust

Had brought upon Christ's sorrow-stricken bride,

Who mourned in secret, while the countless host,

Whose hearts the mitred prelate's will obey'd,

Along the road to ruin heedless strayed.

NIGHT AND MORNING. 33

III.

In sad amazement now the angel stands

On walls, which after bore the vasty dome

Of great St. Peter's. Gold from many lands

Was filling fast the empty vaults of Rome,

That high the structure might majestic rise,

And Rome's proud bishop dazzle with the sheen

Of sumptuous robes, the splendor-loving eyes

Of wond'ring crowds, whose foolish hearts could ween,

That princely pomp, and gorgeous halls were meet

For one, who claimed to fill St. Peter's seat.

IV.

How heaved the angel's breast with sternest wo,
How swelled his heart with indignation's fire,
To see the church of Him, who here below
Displayed, in word and deed, but one desire,
Our ruined race from sin and death to save,
And glorify his Father's holy name, —
Of proud, ambitious, lustful priests the slave,
And by their arts reduced to open shame ;
Still naming Christ, but destitute of life,
With errors dark and all corruption rife.

V.

There through the busy streets the chariots rolled,

And beasts of burden toiled their weary way,

All bending 'neath the weight of sordid gold,

But not the fruit of honest traffic. Nay,

The tainted lucre, which deluded men

For sins committed, sins prospective paid.

For greedy priest-craft found its largest gain,

In selling that, for which the Saviour bled—

The sinner's pardon, and the soul's repose —

For Mammon's coined, and vile, though glitt'ring dross.

34 NIGHT AND MORNING.

VI.

There Rome's proud pontiff, robed in gorgeous vests,
Of pompous pageants meets the glitt'ring throng;
From hacknied blessings flies to whispered jests,
His scarlet-mantled cardinals among ;
They deem the holy gospel all a lie,
And love it only as a means of gain ;
They scorn the faith that to the cross would fly,
And mock the tears that weep the soul's dark stain ;
Their ros'ries, symbols, feasts, and masses high
Aie all but feints, to cheat the vulgar eye.

VII.

They love of ancient Greece the classic lore,
And Rome's bright galaxy of storied names,
The sophist's rules with eager zest explore,
To stifle conscience by his misty games.
They love to scan the poet's measured lines,
To ply the orator's coruscant wit,
To work philosophy's dim-lighted mines,
And at some pagan sage's feet to sit :
But not at Plato's or at Zeno's feet;
With Epicurus they would drink and eat.

VIII.

But 'mid the joys of learning and of art,
Austere abroad, debauched when out of sight,
Pand'ring to ev'ry passion of the heart,
Their lust not shunning e'en the glare of light,
They care not for the dear-bought church of God,
Except to lord it o'er its wide domain,
To learn that to the Pope's imperious nod
Some new, and royal vassal bows again.
They heed not whether souls be damned or saved,
So but by them the nations be enslaved.

NIGHT AND MORNING. 35

IX.

And thus their own unhallowed ends to gain,
They rob poor sinners of the gospel's light ;
For pay their cowl-clad ruffians spread amain
Of superstition vile the doleful night:
To blinded mortals, for departed friends,
From fancied purgatory's dreaded pains,
The impious Tetzel quick deliv'rance vends,
That wicked priests may revel in his gains.
Nay more ; with gold each guilty wretch may win
A free indulgence in his life of sin.

X.

Thus had the church of God once more become
A mart of brokers, and a den of thieves,
Who sold false titles to a heavenly home,
And robbed poor souls of all that faith achieves^
The angel turns with sorrow from the sight,
And mourns for men, by hell once more enslaved,
And fears that priest-craft had all quenched the light.
Without which man can nevermore be saved.
Yet would he learn if hope had left the world.
And, distant climes to seek, his wings unfurled,

PART SECOND.— Morning.

I.

Afar the angel roamed. But far and wide,

Corruption, bigotry offend his sight ;

The saints of God in caves and forests hide,

From public haunts compelled to hasty flight.

In many lands he thus a remnant found,

That worshipped, secretly, the Lord most high,

36 NIGHT AND MORNING.

Whilst in the church the high and low were hound

By superstition's mind-enslaving tie.

As thus, from land to land, the angel flew,

He learnt, from day to day, to grieve anew.

IT.

But now behold him, as his rapid flight

O'er wide Germania's plains again he wends,

His piercing eye from far discerns a sight,

A wondrous sight, that wondrous things portends.

The breath of spring was sweet, and bright the sky,

The moining sun still tinged the clouds with gold,

While stirring crowds abroad, and voices high,

Of some unwonted motive loudly told.

He quick resolves, and scarce resolved, performs,

And lights upon the gate of ancient Worms.

III.

There, like some mighty sea where billows roll,
By storms upheaved, in loud, unceasing strife,
There heaved a living mass, whose inmost soul
With feelings strong and opposite was rife.
The humble artizan, with wondering eyes,
The stately burgher, and the haughty peer,
The gay, the staid, the simple, and the wise,
In motley fellowship are gathered there.
The eyes of all, whom one great impulse sways,
In one direction turn with eager gaze,

IV.

And now behold a glittering throng advance,
The courtly gentleman, the stalwart knight,
On champing steeds, with pennon and with lance,
In sumptuous trappings clad, or armor bright.

NIGHT AND MORNING. 37

And there, this goodly retinue between,

A simple chariot toils along the road,

Within, in homely guise, alone is seen

A lonely monk, whose lips with pray'r o'erflow'd.

However lowly be that monk, 'tis he,

Whom all that multitude went forth to see.

V.

His eye is mild, yet by its vivid fire
The inward spirit's burning zeal betrays ;
A mind to think and do, and holy ire
At falsehood's reign, his lofty brow displays.
When to a gentle smile his lips unfold,
There's sweetness, kindness in his radiant face:
But when compressed, decision prompt and bold,
And firmness naught can shake assume their place.
But hark, what voices ring around him there ?
Here praise, there execration rends the air.

VI.

And on, through crowds on crowds, he moves along,
And louder rings the shout, or angry curse,
His chariot scarce divides the eager throng,
"Triumphal car," say some, and some: "his hearse!"
And when, at length, it reached the proud hostel,
Where erst the Rhodian knights had dwelt in state,
Dense crowds still round the weary friar swell,
And e'en when now the night is wearing late,
Of courtiers, warriors, prelates, barons, knights,
His presence still a glitt'ring swarm invites.

38 NIGHT AND MORNING.

VII.

But now behold in yonder regal hall,

With proudly blazoned arras all bedight,

Where through deep tints of Gothic windows fall

The softened sun-beams with their mellow light,

There sits imperial Charles with power elate,

And rouud him sit or stand a courtly crowd

Of princes, nobles, counsellors of state,

Of prelates, cardinals, all darksome-brow'd ;

'Mid whispers omenous, with looks of care,

All seem to wait some strange occurrence there.

VIII.

Lo, there the marshal waves his baton high,
To force a passage through the eager press ;
Behind him steps the monk, with downcast eye,
Yet comes to speak for truth and righteousness.
Before the Kaiser's throne he humbly stands,
To sundry queries meekly makes reply,
But prays for time to think of their demands,
Which e'en his priestly foes durst not deny.
Their eyes flash triumph, and their lips speak scorn :
But wait, ye scorners, wait the coming morn.

IX.

Once more in that august assemblage there,

That lowly monk is heard to raise his voice,

And oh ! What words of pow'r ring through the air,

And bid the mourning friends of truth rejoice.

He speaks out boldly that the Sacred Word

Is faith's sole basis and sole rule of life ;

For conscience, for the honor of his Lord,

He summons men and devils to the strife.

NIGHT AND MORNING. 39

" To councils bow I not, nor papal rod ;

"I stand here, cannot else, now help me God V

X.

The angel hears what Martin Luther saith,

He sees, through him, once more on earth restored

The majesty of truth, the pow'r of faith ;

Restored again to men God's saving Word,

Restored the rights of conscience and of mind,

Rome's thraldom broken and her captives free ;

He sees that for the ignorant and blind,

Begins anew the Gospel Jubilee.

While thus with holy joy his heart is fed,

He mounts, he flies, the blissful news to spread.

PREDICTIONS.

BY B. KUBTZ, D. D.

" Despise not prophesying." — 1 Thes. V. 20.

No. I.

The quotation is trite "but full of meaning, tliat "coming
events cast their shadows "before." When a calm prevails
at sea; when the glass-like surface of the broad blue deep
is unruffled by a single breeze, and the stagnant and unelastic
atmosphere impedes free respiration, the sailor knows that
a storm is brewing and that soon the shrill outcry: "all
hands on deck!" will summon every man to his duty. When
heaven is about to pour forth a refreshing rain upon the
parched and thirsty fields, the sky is overcast with darkness
and murky, lowering clouds preintimate the approaching
event. Prodigality and waste precede want; plethora is the
accustomed harbinger of paralysis ; and fell, malignant dis-
ease premonishes its victim of speedy dissolution. So,
" cominsr events cast their shadows before."

The most important occurrences in the annals of our
world, have been the subjects of prophecy. Did the Most
High determine to inundate the old world because "he saw
that the wickedness of man was great ;" — the dread catas-
trophy was announced many years in advance. Were the
cities of the plain to be turned into a heap of smouldering
ruins ; — " the angel of the Lord" was commissioned to re-

PREDICTIONS. 41

veal the impending calamity to his chosen servant. Was it
decreed in the councils of heaven, that a mighty Deliverer
should be sent forth for the salvation of a rebel world \ —
that Deliverer and his advent were the theme of innumerable
types and prophecies. But all these occurrences were pre-
dicted by avowed and explicit inspiration from on High.
Great events not strictly falling within this category, — not
the subjects of plainly inspired prophecy, and not even re-
ferred to in the sacred writings, appear also to have been
made the topics of presage, and have been foretold, vaguely
and obscurely indeed, in many instances, but yet with suffi-
cient clearness and impressiveness to justify the expectation
of them, or at least, the looking forward to the approach of
something of high moment and unusual interest. Profane
history abounds with narratives corroborative of this re-
mark.

Nothing is more famous in the chronicles of ancient
Rome, than the story of Romulus, and his twelve vultures ;
an omen this, on which the auspicious name of the rising
city, and the fortune of its founder, were at once established.
We have it affirmed on the high authority of M. T. Varro^
that Vettius Valeris, an augur of distinguished name in those
days, took occasion from this circumstance (and in the hear-
ing of Varro himself,) to fix the duration of the Roman em-
pire. The twelve vultures, he said, which appeared to Ro-
mulus, portended that the sovereignty of that state and city,
whose foundations he was then laying, should continue for
the space of twelve hundred years. It is of no moment to in-
quire, on what principles of art the learned augur proceed-
ed in this calculation. The truth is, that the event corres-
ponded, in a surprising manner, to the conjecture ; and that
the majesty of the wsstern empire (of which Rome was the

42 PREDICTIONS,

capital,) did indeed expire, under the merciless hands of the
Goths, about the time limited by this augural prophet. It
should further be observed, that this prediction was deliv-
ered by Valens, at least five hundred years before its fulfil-
ment; when there was not the least appearance, that this
catastrophe would befall, what was called the eternal cityt
within that period.

A poet, in the ideas of paganism, was a prophet too. And
Seneca1 has left us, in proof of the inspiration to which, in
his double capacity, he might pretend, the following oracle:

venient annis

Secula seris, quibus Oceanus
Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens
Pateat tellus, Tiphysque novos
Detegat orbes ; nee sit terris
Ultima Thule.

The meaning of the above is, that "in late years the pe-
riod will arrive, when the ocean shall loosen the bonds of
things and a mighty land shall be laid open, and Tiphys
shall unveil new worlds and Thule shall no longer be the
utmost extremity of the earth."

This prediction was made in the reign of Nero; and for
more than fourteen hundred years, might only pass for one of
those sallies of imagination, in which poetry so much de-
lights. But when at length, at the close of the fifteenth cen-
tury, the discoveries of Columbus had realized this vision;
when that enterprizing navigator had forced the barriers of
the vast Atlantic ; had loosened, what the poet calls, tlw
bonds of things ; and in these later ages, as was expressly
signified, had set at liberty an immense continent, shut up
before in surrounding seas from the commerce and acquaint-

'Medea, v. 374.

-■PREDICTIONS.

ance of our world ; when this event, so important and unex-
pected, came to pass, it might almost surprize one into the
belief, that the prediction was something more than a poeti-
cal fancy ; and that heaven had indeed revealed to one favor-
ed Spaniard, what it had decreed, in due time, to accomplish
by cmotlier.

We have the fullest evidence that these predictions, one
foretelling the downfall of the mightiest empire, and the other
the discovery of a new icorld, are authentic and circumstan-
tial, and gave notice hundreds of years in advance of events
which no human sagacity could have forseen, and that they
have been strictly and properly fulfilled.1

The night preceding the assassination of Caesar in the sen-
ate-house, his wife, Calpurnia, had a remarkable vision.
She dreamed that she was weeping over him, as she held
him, murdered, in her arms. A somewhat different version
of this vision has been given. Be that as it may, it is agreed
on all hands that her dream exceedingly affected her the
next morning, and that she conjured Ceesar not to go out that
day, if he could possibly avoid it, but to adjourn the senate;
' and if he paid no regard to her dreams, to have recourse to
some other source for information. Having never observed
in Calpurnia any thing like weakness and superstition, and
perceiving her now to be in great distress, he at length
yielded to her importunities. But Decimus Brutus, in whom
Caesar reposed unlimited confidence, afterwards persuaded
him to change his mind and go forth to meet the Senate, not-
withstanding the entreaties of his faithful wife. The result
is known; the conspiracy, headed by Brutus and Cassius,
carried their point, and the mighty warrior, bleeding from
no less than u three and twenty wounds," inflicted by his

'Vide Hurd on Prophecy, sermon IV.

44 PREDICTIONS.

professed friends, expired beneath Pompey's statue, dying
its pedestal with his blood !

An extract from the immortal bard of Avon on this sub-
ject, may not be unacceptable to the reader in the present
connection :

Dec. Caesar, all hail ! Good morrow, worthy Caesar :
I come to fetch you to the senate-house.

Cves. And you are come in very happy time
To bear my greeting to the senators,
And tell them that I will not come to-day :
Cannot, is false; and that I dare not, falser;
I will not come to-day : Tell them so, Decius.

Cal. Say, he is sick.

Cms. Shall Caesar send a lie ?

Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far,
To be afeard to tell grey-beards the truth ?
Decius, go tell them, Caesar will not come.

Dec. Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause,
Lest I be laugh'd at, when I tell them so.

Cas. The cause is in my will, I will not come ;
That is enough to satisfy the senate.
But, for your private satisfaction,.
Because I love you, I will let you know.
Calphurnia here, my wife, stays me at home :
She dreamt to-night she saw my statua,
Which, like a fountain, with a hundred spouts,
Did run pure blood; and many lusty Romans
Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it.
And these does she apply for warnings, portents,
And evils imminent ; and on her knee
Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day.

PREDICTIONS. 45

Dec. This dream is all amiss interpreted ;
It was a vision, fair and fortunate :
Your statue spouting blood in many pipes,
In which so many smiling Romans bath'd,
Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck
Reviving blood : and that great men shall press
For tinctures, stains, relics,1 and cognizance.2
This by Calphurnia's dream is signified.

Cces. And this way have you well expounded it.

Dec. I have, when you have heard what I can say :
And know it now : The senate have concluded
To give, this day, a crown to mighty Caesar.
If you shall send them word, you will not come,
Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock
Apt to be render'd, for some one to say,
Break itp the senate till another time,
When Ccesar^s wife shall meet with better dreams.
If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper,
Lo, Caesar is afraid ?

Pardon me, Caesar ; for my dear, dear love
To your proceeding bids me tell you this ;
And reason to my love is liable.3

Cces. How foolish do your fears seem now, Calphurnia ?
I am ashamed I did yield to them. —
Give me my robe, for I will go. —

The remarkable premonition received in a dream by Pi-
late's wife, when our Lord stood before him on trial, is too
well known to require more than a passing notice. The
governor had " set down on the judgment seat;" the inno-
cent Jesus stood before him accused by his blood-thirsty ene-

'As to a saint, for reliques. \As to a prince, for honors.

Subordinate.

46 PREDICTIONS.

mies of numerous flagrant offences, not one of which could
be substantiated by even plausible truth. In the midst of the
trial, a special messenger from the wife of the governor in-
terrupts the proceedings ; the important message he was or-
dered to deliver is as follows : " Have thou nothing to do
with that just man; for I have suffered many things this day
in a dream because of him." Here we have evidence of a
particular Providence of God in sending a dream to a wo-
man, who in all probability knew nothing of Christ, certainly
not sufficient to cause her to dream of him. Thus, God on
some special occasions reveals himself even to those who
are strangers to him, as was also the fact, for example, in
t"he case of Nebuchadnezzar. " There is no doubt," says
A. Clark, "but God had appeared unto this woman, testify-
ing the innocence of Christ, and showing the evils which
should pursue Pilate, if this innocent blood should be shed
by his authority." Alas, poor Pilate ! he disregarded the
tearful expostulations of his faithful consort, as had done
Ceesar before him ; and the event was alike fatal. He was ■
subsequently deposed for his cruelties to the Samaritans, and
exiled to Vienna, in Dauphiny, where he killed himself two
years after.

We must be permitted here, also to refer to two very
extraordinary speeches made respecting our own immortal
Washington immediately after Braddock's defeat, and
which subsequent events exhibit as partaking of the char-
acter of prognostics. A famous Indian warrior, who acted
a leading part in that bloody tragedy, was often heard to
declare, "that Washington was never born to be killed by a
bullet! For" continued he, u I had seventeen fair Jires at
him icith my rifle, and after all could not bring him to the
ground /" Whoever considers that a good rifle levelled by

PREDICTIONS. 47

a proper marksman, seldom misses its aim, will find no great
difficulty in conceding with that unlettered savage, that there
was some invisible influence that turned aside the bullets.

The celebrated Rev. Mr. Davies, in a sermon occasioned
by Braddock's defeat, uses the following prophetic lan-
guage : " I beg leave to point the attention of the public to
that heroic youth, Colonel Washington, whom I cannot but
hope Providence has preserved for some great service to
this country."

But of no uninspired man have a greater variety of pre-
dictions been uttered, than of the illustrious Reformer of the
sixteenth century. Spalatin has compiled a whole volume
of them, and undertaken to trace their actual fulfilment.
We have no doubt that many of them are apocryphal, while
others amount to no more than shrewd conjectures, such as
might without any super-human interposition, proceed from
sagacious minds, improved by long and close observation
and extensive experience. But it is no less true, that future
events, especially if remote or extraordinary,1 or described
with some degree of ■particularity, are not within the ability
of the human mind to predict. Such appears to be the char-
acter of some of the prophecies respecting Luther and the
Reformation, a few of which wre shall proceed to lay before
the reader in a subsequent number. Vide page 54.

'Socrates foretold, that " he should die in three days," and the event fol-
lowed ; Jesus foretold that he should surfer death by crucifixion ; and also,
that he should rise from the dead, within three days after his crucifixion. The
first of these predictions, might be a sagacious conjecture. Can the same be
said of the last txco ?

PROPHETIC DREAM OF FREDERICK THE WISE,

ELECTOR OF SAXONY,

October 30th, 1517.

From an Original Manuscript.

The Rev. George Spalatinus has confidently related a
dream to me Antonius Musa, which Duke Frederick, Elec-
tor of Saxony, had at Schvveinitz, on the night of All Saints.
This was the evening previous to the day on which Dr.
Martin Luther posted up at Wittenberg, with the intention of
publicly defending them, his first theses against the pope and
John Tetzel's sermons on Romish grace and remission of
sins. This dream his grace noted down early the next morn-
ing for the purpose of preservation and mentioned it, in the
presence of his chancellor, to his brother Duke John of
Saxony. He addressed him thus: "Brother, I must relate a
dream to you that I had last night and I would very much
like to have it interpreted. I have such a distinct recollec-
tion of it, and it is so deeply impressed upon my mind that I
think were I to live a thousand years, I never could forget
it ; for it occurred to me three times in succession and al-
ways improved in vividness." Duke John asked, "Is it a
good or bad dream ?" " I don't know, God alone can tell,"
was the answer of the elector. Duke John continued, " but
my brother, you need not trouble yourself about it; when-

PROPHECTIC DREAM. 49

ever I have a dream I always pray a kind Providence to dis-
pose of it for the best, or I endeavor to forget it as far as
possible, since I cannot but remember that many dreams both
good and bad have been verified, which, as I only discovered
afterwards, generally had reference to petty difficulties. But
tell me what was your dream?" The Elector Frederick
replied. " I will relate it. Last night when I retired to rest I
was considerably exhausted and weary so that I almost fell
asleep over my prayers. I had slept sweetly for two hours
and a half when I awoke, and as I became somewhat col-
lected I lay and reflected on various subjects until about mid-
night; among other things I considered how I together with
my courtiers would keep a fast and holiday in honor of all
the dear saints. I prayed too for the poor souls in purgatory
and resolved to assist them out of the glowing fire. I pray-
ed kind Providence for his grace that I and my counsellors
and my country might be directed in the spirit of truth and
preserved in happiness ; also that he in his omnipotence
would deliver us from all vagabonds who disturb our govern-
ment. Occupied with such thoughts I again fell asleep soon
after midnight Then I dreamt how the Almighty sent to
me a monk from his august presence, the natural son of the
blessed apostle Paul. He brought with him by the com-
mand of God all the dear saints to testify to me that he was
no imposter but that he was truly a messenger of the Lord ;
and that God had instructed them to command me to grant
the monk permission to inscribe something on my castle
chapel at Wittenberg. They promised me I should not re-
pent it. I caused the chancellor to tell the monk he might
write whatever he had been ordered, since God had laid such
an injunction upon me and since he had such powerful testi-
mony in his favor. Hereupon the monk commenced writing

50 PROPHETIC DREAM.

in such large characters that I could distinguish them here at
Schweinitz. He made use of a pen so long that it reached
even to Rome ; the feather penetrating the one ear of a lion
in Rome, came out at the other, and extending itself further,
came in contact with the holy triple papal crown and pressed
so hard that it began to totter and was about falling off the
head of his holiness. Just as it was falling it appeared to
me that you and I were standing near, and I even reached
out my hand for the purpose of helping to catch it. In this
sudden movement I awoke and found I had my arm extended
in the air; I was quite frightened and felt angry too with the
monk for not using his pen more cautiously. Upon consid-
eration however, I found I had only been dreaming, and as I
was very drowsy my eyes soon closed again and I fell fast
asleep. Before I was conscious of it, the same dream re-
turned, for I had to deal with the monk again and I regarded
him attentively as he continued writing and forcing the feath-
er of his pen further through the lion (Leo X.) at Rome
against the pope. Upon this the lion roared terribly, and all
Rome and all the nobles of the holy empire ran together to
see what was the matter. Then his papal holiness demanded
of the nobles that they should by all means oppose this monk
and particularly notify me of this piece of mischief because
this monk resided in my dominions.

Hereupon I awoke the second time and was astonished
that the dream had occurred to me again. I did not how-
ever let it disturb me, but prayed God to preserve his papal
holiness from all harm and again fell asleep. The monk now
appeared to me for the third time. I dreamt that the prin-
cipal nobles of the empire, among whom were you and I,
went to Rome and used our utmost endeavors to break this
monk's pen and to ward it off from the pope. But the more

PROPHETIC DREAM. 51

we exerted ourselves the more it grated and creaked as if it
were made of iron. So harshly did it creak that it stunned
my ears and pained me to the heart. All of us at length be-
came dispirited and weary ; we ceased our exertions and
gradually separated. Besides, we were fearful that eating
bread was not the only trick the monk understood ; he might
perhaps do us some mischief. Nevertheless (as at one time
1 was at Rome, at another at Wittenberg and then again at
Rome) I caused the inquiry to be made of the monk, where
he had obtained this pen and how it happened that it was so
strong and tough. He sent me for an answer that it was
from a hundred year-old goose -,1 that one of his old school-
masters had honored him by presenting it to him and had
begged, since it was such a good one, that he would keep it
and use it in remembrance of him. Besides, he had temper-
ed it himself. But the reason why it was so long and hard
and firm was, that its temper could not be destroyed which
circumstance astonished even himself.

Soon after there was a clamor raised because innumerable
other pen& had grown out of the monk's long pen, and it was
amusing to hear the scholars of Wittenberg squabbling about
the affair ; some maintaining that these new pens would with
time become just as long as the monk's pen, and that some-
thing extraordinary would certainly result from this monk
and his pen.

As I now fully determined in my dream to have a speedy
and a more satisfactory personal conference with the monk, I
at length awoke for the third time and found it was morning.

I was very much astonished at the dream; I revolved it in
my mind and could form a perfect conception of it in its

'Huss, which in the Bohemian language signifies goose, lived just one hun-
dred years before Luther.

52 PROPHETIC DREAM.

various stages and noted down its most prominent points. I
am fully convinced that it is not without meaning because of
its frequent recurrence. I am almost determined to reveal it
to my confessor, nevertheless I wished previously to let you
know something about it. Now I wish you and the chan-
cellor to express your opinions of it." Duke John said,
" Sir Chancellor, what is your view of the matter ? There
is not much reliance to be placed on dreams, nevertheless
they are not always to be disregarded. If we only had a
sensible, pious and divinely inspired Joseph or Daniel, he
might perhaps interpret it." The chancellor replied, "your
graces know that it is a common saying that the dreams of
maidens, learned men and nobles generally mean something ;
but what it is in this instance we must leave to the revela-
tions of time to discover; till perhaps some quarrel may
arise to which we may presumptively infer that the dream
has reference. Many examples of this kind must be familiar
to your graces. Joseph says, " do not interpretations belong
to God P1" And Daniel says, "there is a God in heaven that,
revealeth secrets." Therefore your grace should only com-
mend this dream to God ; monks have often brought heavy
calamities upon great men. The best of it is, that this monk
has been sent by God, with the command to write, and that
all the saints are his witnesses ; unless perhaps the devil is
carrying on his tricks under an assumed cloke of holiness.
Your grace will know best how to consider the matter whilst
engaged in your devotions." Duke John remarked, " I am
of the same opinion, Sir Chancellor; for it is not at all advi-
sable to trouble and torment ourselves much about it. If
this dream came from God, he will order every thing for the
best and show to us in his own appointed time the real mean-
ing of it all ; if it implies any thing evil, he will ward it off."

PROPHETIC DREAM. 53

Duke Frederick, the elector said, "may kind Providence
do so, nevertheless I cannot forget the dream. I have my
own views of the matter, but for the present I will keep my
interpretation private. However, I will take a memorandum
of it. The time may perhaps come when it will be de-
termined whether I am right, and then we will say more
about it."

PREDICTIONS

RESPECTING LUTHER AND THE REFORMATION.
BY B. KURTZ, D. D.

" Despise not prophesyings." — 1 Thess. v. 20.

No. II.

(Continued from page 41.)

One of the earliest and most remarkable predictions re-
specting the Saxon Reformer, was that uttered by his learned
and pious predecessor, John Huss, in the year 1416. When
that distinguished Bohemian divine was chained to the stake
for having inveighed against the corruptions of the popish
clergy and commended the writings and opinions of Wick-
liffe, the duke of Bavaria desired him to abjure. "No,"
said Huss, I never preached any doctrine of an evil ten-
dency ; and what I taught with my lips, I seal with my
blood ;" and turning to the executioner, he added, "Are you
going to burn a gooseP — in one century you will have a
swarfi you can neither roast nor boil." Luther several times
alluded to this prophecy, and did not scruple to regard him-

•The meaning of the word, huss, is goose.

2The word, hither, in the Bohemian language is said to imply a sican,
and a sioan was also the principal ensign armorial on Luther's escutcheon.

PREDICTIONS. 55

self as the object of its application.1 The distinguished
George C. Reiger once remarked on a public occasion :
" Shall Protestants now call in doubt this prediction, when it
is well known that Luther's most inveterate opponents did
not dare to contradict him when he referred to it himself and
applied it to his own person ?" George of Zedlitz, whose
father had embraced Huss's views, and was on that account
proclaimed an outlaw, despatched two of his subjects to Lu-
ther in the year 1518, to inquire whether he was the swan
intended in Huss' prediction ? in reply to whom Luther re-
turned his most friendly salutations, and added, that " time
would develop what is God's design in relation to him."2

A short time prior to Luther's appearance before the pub-
lic, there resided at Erfurt a doctor of theology and preach-
er of the Dome,3 named Sebastian. He declaimed with
great boldness against the disgraceful ignorance, idleness and
licentiousness of the priesthood, as also against the infamous
doctrine of indulgences, and other scandalous abuses. The
students of the university and citizens repaired in great num-
bers to hear him. But he became so obnoxious to the priests
and magistrates, that they effected his expulsion from the
town. Before he was banished, he publicly declared : " The

'The version handed down in Luther's writings of this extraordinary pre-
diction, though substantially the same as that given above, varies somewhat
as to circumstances. In a letter to a friend, the Saxon Reformer is reported
to have used the following language : " The blessed Huss addressed an
epistle from his prison in Constance to his brethren in Bohemia, in which he
prophesied concerning me thus : ' They are now about to roast a goose, but
in the course of a hundred years, a sicaii will be heard to sing, — him they
shall not be able to burn.1 " Vide., " New and Old for Lutherans." Vol. I.,
No. 2, p. 67.

2 Vide Seckendorf's Hist, of Luther, p. 2690.

3The word Dome is derived from the Latin domus, a house, temple, &c,
and means the principal church in a diocese, which is the bishop's seat, an-
swering to the English word, Cathedral.

56 PREDICTIONS.

period is not very remote when the gospel will be read to
you from a book. Some of you will live to see that period ;
to me the privilege is not allotted."1

Cotemporaneously with Sebastian, lived Dr. Andrew Proles,
Prior of the Augustinian Convent at Wernigerode. He was
often heard to say: " you have been told, beloved brethren,
how God's word testifies, that by grace we are what we
are, and by grace we have what we have. Whence then
proceed such spiritual blindness and abominable supersti-
tion? O brethren! a thorough reformation is greatly needed
throughout Christendom, which, blessed be God, I now fore-
see to be near at hand." When his brethren (the monks)
inquired why he did not commence the work, he replied :
" that he was too far advanced in life to undertake such a
mighty task ; and besides, he was not possessed of the re-
quisite qualifications. But God would shortly awaken and
endow with gifts a master-spirit, loho would be equal to the stu-
pendous enterprize, and especially put within him a fearless
heart to resist the proud dignitaries of church and state."

E. S. Cyprian, church-counsellor at Gotha, relates2 the
subjoined fact, quoted from the Rev. J. Wolfram's Centuriis
quinque testimoniorum, &c. : " There had long been an altar
in the Augustinian monastery at Gotha, near the door and to
the right of the baptismal font, erected in honor of St. Se-
bastian. In the year 1531, this altar was removed, and the
space supplied with seats for females. On the wall where
the altar had stood was found written (as several of the citi-

'It was in the library of the University at Erfurt that Luther found the
first Bible he had ever seen ; and the art of printing having been then al-
ready invented, the prediction was literally fulfilled.

2Vide Tentzel's Historical Report of the commencement and early pro-
gress of the Reformation.

PREDICTIONS. 57

zens still remember,) in small but well formed and quite
legible characters, the following- distich :

MC quadratum, LX quoque duplicatum,
Oraps1 peribit, et Huss Wiclefque redibit.

This couplet may be turned into English, thus :

A thousand and four hundred years, — twice sixty to that sura,
The " Oras" all are perishing, — back Huss and Wickliffe come.

In the thirtieth article of the Apology of the Augsburg-
Confession, we also find an account of a prediction* in rela-
tion to Luther and the Reformation. It is there stated:
" That about thirty years ago, there was in the town of Eis-
enach, Thuringia, a monk of the order of Barefeet, named
John Hilten, who was cast into prison by his brethren
because he sought to reform a number of abuses in the mor-
als of the monks. We have seen some of his writings, from
which it is obvious that he preached the truth. Those who
were acquainted with him assure us, that he was a quiet, re-
tired and pious old man, of irreproachable life and charac-
ter ; that he uttered numerous prophecies relating to the pre-
sent times, several of which have already been verified,
while others remain to be fulfilled. Finally, when by the fee-
bleness of age and the hardships of imprisonment he became
the victim of disease, he requested the presence of the Guar-
dian,2 and complained of his infirmities and sickness. The
Guardian, filled with bitterness and rage, vehemently re-
proached him, and bid him pour forth his lamentations to
'kitchen-maids and stable-boys.' Poor Hilten wiped the
tears from his swollen eyes, and heaving a deep sepulchral
groan, replied : ' Though I have neither preached nor writ-

1 Oraps is an abbreviation of orapro nobis, i. e. pray for us.
2An officer of the cloister.

OS PREDICTIONS.

ten any thing calculated injuriously to affect monastic life
in a state of purity, having- only attacked flagrant abuses, yet
I cheerfully submit to persecution and condemnation for
Christ's sake;' And then, his countenance lighting up and
his voice recovering its wonted vigor, he added : ' An indi-
vidual will appear in the year 1516, who will more effectu-
ally than I have done, assail the monks, and ultimately de-
stroy them. Him you will not be able to resist, and he will
abide in defiance of persecution.' This prediction was sub-
sequently found in several of his writings, and especially in
his Commentaries on David. Luther plainly referred to this
prophecy in his celebrated Tract on the " Conciliis and
Churches," 1539.1

In an old document found in the archives of the town of
Rostock, Prussia, we meet with the following passage : " In
the year 1516, a man, known in Rostock by the familiar
cognomon of " the prophet," was wont to exclaim on the
streets: 'The deliverance of Israel is at hand; Israel is
about to be redeemed from Babylonish captivity ; — therefore
repent.' " He was banished from the town for disturbing
the peace by his noisy proclamation.2

The truly pious Mathesius mentions in his sermons, num-
ber XV. on the life of Luther: " That it was a common
saying in the court of Rome, that an Eremit would assault
the triple crown." In accordance with this fact, Staupitz
was heard to remark to Luther: " I thought the onset was
to be made by one of the order of the Clausners or the Her-
mits, but now I perceive that he is to be of the Augustinian
order." The Augustinian monks were also called Eremits.

'Vide Edit, of his Works, Erlangen, vol. xxv. p. 325, where he remarks :
" What took place hetween the monks at Eisenach and John Hilten, is re-
corded in the Apology."

2VideP. Lindenburg in Chron. Rostock, Lb. 3, c. 19.

PREDICTIONS. 59

The same veracious author, (Mathesius) in sermon, num-
ber II. informs us that a certain Dr. Fleck, a devout monk,
who officiated at the dedication of the University at Witten-
berg, declared : " that all Christendom would be indebted to
" Wise-HiW1 for knowledge. When Dr. F. subseqently
noticed Luther's Ninety-five Theses affixed to the convent
at Steinlausig, and commenced reading them, he suddenly
stopped, and with great vehemence exclaimed: "Aha! he's
the man; he'll bring it about; we have long been waiting
for him." He immediately wrote a very animating letter to
Luther, and urged him " to go forward without fear, for he
was in the right way ; God would be on his side, and the
prayers of thousands of captives in Romish Babylon would
secure a triumph."

These are some among the numerous and best established
predictions in reference to Luther and the Reformation. The
authenticity of many others is not so well proven. There
was one in vogue at Rome, which we give on the authority
of Bapt. Montuamus.2 " There are not wanting even in our
age, those who say that the time of Antichrist is at hand ;
and that at a period not distant, a teacher will be born, who
shall introduce great changes in morals and in laws."3

" When the Reformation was in progress," so writes Cy-
prian, " this testimony was also applied to Luther." In
Spalatin's Epistles, contained in the royal library at Gotha,
the following information may be found, which he communi-
cated to Vitum Warbeccium, in a letter dated: Quinta post

'Wittenberg, frequently but incorrectly spelt Wittemberg, is a corruption
of Weissenberg, which, in English, means Wise-Hill, or Hill of Wisdom.

sVide Lib. III. de paticulia, cap. xxx.

3" Non desunt etiam nostris temporibus, qui dicant, appropinquare tempus
Antichristi-quendam brevi nasciturum, qui magnam morum et legum variet-
atem inducat."

60 PREDICTIONS.

Exaudi, 1526. " Will you please return to D. Anselmo the
prophecy of Baptist Mantuamus about the new teacher, and
the changes in laws and morals. And tell him, that it suits
our Luther far better than those which he recently sent me
of an unfavorable character, with interpretations of the worst
cast by I know not what great men." '

We have not been able fully to satisfy ourselves respect-
ing the genuineness of the predictions by John Wesselius of
Groningen, and Hieronymus Savannarola. But they are of
sufficient importance to justify a careful examination. In a
publication entitled : " The Pious Lutheran," which appear-
ed in 1717, we find the following: "Wesselius Gronin-
gensis died in the year 1489. He was well known as a man
of great piety and experience, and was particularly learned
in the sacred scriptures. Seckendorf remarks concerning
his writings, now nearly out of print, that they are so valu-
able that they deserve to be republished in letters of gold.
This distinguished man (Wesselius) stated to M. John Osten-
dorpius, while yet a mere boy, that he (the latter) would live
to see the day when the principles of the new theologians,
such as Thomae, Beneventurae and other scholastic philoso-
phers would be refuted, and absolutely ridiculed and con-
demned by learned divines. This prophecy was of course
fulfilled, inasmuch as Ostendorpius lived till the year 1520.
Hieronymus Savannarola declared in Italy in the year 1483:
" There is now one at the door; he is being born, who will
aim a mighty blow at the pope's pate, and cause his crown
to fall in the dust." It is a matter of historical record, that
Savannarola possessed in a remarkable degree the gift of pro-

'" Redde quaeso D. Anselmo vaticinium Baptistse Mamtuami dc novo pro-
pheta et leges et moras mutaturo. Et die ei, hoc magis convenire Lutliero
nostro, quam quae nuper mihi misit contra euni a nescio quibus procenibus
interpretata in pessimam partem."

PREDICTIONS. 61

phecy and obtained great celebrity by it. His enemies en-
vied and hated him on this very account, and it was one of
the causes that brought him to the stake.

The apostle Paul referred to the prophecies respecting
Timothy,1 as a means of stimulating him to " war a good
warfare ;" and I have not the slightest doubt that Luther
was greatly encouraged by the well known predictions rela-
ting to him and his work. His was peculiarly a task, far
above all human wisdom and power. The very idea of at-
tempting to correct the ten thousand flagrant abuses of the
popish hierarchy, was appalling ; the thought of coming in
collision and conflict with Rome in all her pomp and glory,
her exhaustless resources, her complex and yet perfect ma-
chinery, her unlimited power, &c. Avas sufficient to daunt
and overwhelm ten thousand heroes, even as intrepid as him
of Saxony. All previous attempts to resist popish corrup-
tion, had been successfully defeated, and their devoted au-
thors doomed to cruel and ignominious death at the stake.
How could Luther expect a more favorable doom, or hope
to escape the vengeance of the reckless, ruthless myrmidons
of the "man of sin?" Did he not need the presence and
special consolations of God, more than any other man since
the days of the glorious and fearless Apostle of the Gen-
tiles ? He did. And they were bestowed upon him. Is it
too much to indulge the belief, that one of the means em-
ployed by Providence to strengthen him in his work, and in-
spire him with unblenching firmness, was prophecy ? Cer-
tain it is, that predictions were uttered by holy men ; that
Luther was not ignorant of those predictions ; and that their
natural tendency was to prompt him onward and fill him
with a degree of intrepidity not only beyond that manifested

'TuB*-i. 18, and iv. 14.

62 PREDICTIONS.

by all his cotemporaries, but also by all his predecessors.
It was with a full knowledge of those prophecies and under
the power of their influence, that he was enabled "to war a
good warfare," and " not neglect the gift that was in him."
Whether or not, the recollection of them had any connection
with the heroic stand he took at the Diet of Worms, when
in the face of the most formidable array of regal and priest-
ly power and imposing grandeur, he exclaimed : " Here I
stand, I cannot otherwise; may God' help me !" — or with the
unprecedented fearlessness of man, and confidence in God,
which he had previously evinced, when in opposition to the
dissuasions of his friends, he cried out : " I will go to
Worms though there be as many devils there as there are
tiles on the houses-," — whether or not, we remark, the recol-
lection of those predictions had any influence in producing
such stupendous displays of christian heroism, we will not
undertake to discuss ; perfectly willing to submit it to the
decision of the reader.

Three centuries have now gone by since those mighty
achievements ; we have read those wonderful foretellings
and witnessed their accomplishment. Should not our faith
in the glorious work be strengthened ? May we not confi-
dently regard it as a work of God ? — The Bible is now the
rich but common inheritance of every Protestant christian ;
all enjoy the right of private judgment. The faith once de-
livered to the saints has been purged of the superstitions and
human inventions thrown around it by popes and councils,
and restored to us in its primitive simplicity and purity.
Every one for himself may read the truth, pray over it, be-
lieve in it, and be saved by it. O should not our hearts
swell with gratitude and our mouths fill with praises, for the
inestimable blessings resulting from that astonishing and

PREDICTIONS. 63

magnificent revolution in church and state ? Let us highly
value and firmly and faithfully hold to the apostolic doc-
trineSj retrieved from the depths of human corruption
through the instrumentality of the illustrious reformers, and
let it be our daily prayer to our Lord, that those doctrines
may be preserved inviolate to our latest posterity, — and our
irrevocable determination, that by the grace of God, neither
the artful and heartless machinations of Rome, nor the un-
tiring assaults of infidelity, nor the unappeasable malignity
of hell, shall rob us of them.

HEALING OF THE BLIND.

BY REV. E. YEATES REESE.

"When he had thus spoken, he spat on the ground, and made clay of the
spittle, and he anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay, and said
unto him, Go wash in the pool of Siloam, (which is by interpretation sent.)
He went his way therefore, and washed, and came seeing." John ix. 7.

Darkness sat on his vision. All was night,
Deep and perpetual night, that knew nor moon
Nor stars to gladden !

He had often felt
In hoyhood hours, the warm tears kiss his cheek:?,
Distilled from eyes maternal, and had heard
The low, faint sigh of anguish, half subdued,
Yet thrilling in its eloquence ; had heard
The deep convulsive throbbing of the heart
Whereon his head was pillowed, as a dart
Had pierced his mother's being, while she spoke,
So tenderly, so melancholy spoke,
In tones that told her hopelessness of grief
— ' Alas my boy is blind !' His tiny hands
Were wont, too, in their playfulness to toy
With every feature of the one so loved ;
And he would sweetly smile, as the dark hair,
In rich and delicate smoothness met his touch ;
And his young heart elated, as the voice
Of woman's tenderness, did greet his ear,
And the soft lips of love were pressed to his : — -
But he, alas ! was blind ! — and tho' the cup
Of joy was sometimes to o'erflowing full,

HEALING OF THE BLIND. 65

Yet was his soul, a stranger to the thoughts
That speak their mysteries only from .the eye; —
A stranger to the meek and radiant smile,
That like a sunbeam on a summer cloud,
Dispelleth childhood's little glooms, and gives
A world of happiness, words may not speak
Nor sightless orbs conceive.

Maturer years
Restored him not to vision. He had stood
Where Nature sported in her joyous hours,
And felt the soft winds kiss his darkened lids,
And heard their whisperings 'mid the o'erarching trees,
And wondered much their fashion, — and when Storm,
In whirlwind majesty rode thro' the sky
Pouring dire vengeance o'er the startled earth —
He heard the rolling of his chariot wheels
And knew to call it Thunder! — but the flash—
Of his fierce eye-ball, aweless and unseen,
Glared wildly on his path.

He heard of Night,
Of the fair Moon, and countless shining orbs,
Walking in calm magnificence on high,
Singing their lullaby to wearied man ;
He heard of Day — of the all glorious Sun,
Flooding the earth with light, and life, and bliss,
Smiling on mountain top, and lowly vale —
And of the beauteous earth, adorned with flowers,
Rich dressed in various hues ; and of the brooks,
Leaping in the glad sunshine, and of birds,
Of plumage bright and glorious, whose gay songs,
Thrill' d musically on his ear the while,
Yet hearing while he saw not, brought but sighs,—
Deep, bitter sighs that to himself was given
No promised dawn to his protracted gloom,

HEALING OF THE BLIND.

Yet murmuring word ne'er sat upon his lips ;

But there was One, with will and power to heal —
Jesus, the son of Mary ! — wondrous love
Shone in his countenance, and his very look
Was full of blessing. He had never pass'd
Coldly, a child of suffering, nor aside,
Turned him away from penury or want;
And now he gazed upon the sightless balls,
And felt compassion touch his inmost soul.
The clay was wetted, — and the mellow words,
Fell sweetly on the hearing of the blind,
The while his eyes were with Christ's fingers touched — ■
" To Siloam's waters hie thee, wash, my son,
And sight shall be restored thee."

Now, he stood —
The blind man, by the streamlet, and his soul,
Thrill'd with expectance,, for his faith was large,
As stooping down he caught the waters bright
And brought them to his eyelids. Suddenly
A strange, and indistinct sensation ran
Through all his senses, and a mellowed gloom,
Rested before his vision — and was gone !
Again he laved — when lol in glory burst
Upon him all the blessedness of sight !
He saw the cool waves, rippling at his feet
And the rich verdure of the swelling banks,
And the blue sky above him — aye, his soul,
Was fill'd with transport far surpassing words, —
Silence belits its musing !

LUTHER'S VISIT TO ROME.

BY J. G. MORRIS, D. D.

" This perplexing business must be referred to the pope ;
we cannot settle it ourselves," said Staupitz, the superior of
the Augustinian Monastery at Wittenberg, to one of his sub-
ordinates.

" True, father, let his holiness decide — the infallible judge
of all controversy will do right; and permit me to recom-
mend to you a suitable commissioner, who will faithfully ex-
ecute the trust," replied the other.

" And he is— ?"

" Brother Martin."

" Right," said Staupitz, " an extraordinary young man,
and one of my particular favorites; he is faithful and true, of
eminent talents besides, of vast attainments for his years, and
burning zeal for the church ; brother Martin shall be com-
missioned to lay our grievances at the feet of his holiness."

In the year 1510, a serious controversy arose among the
Augustinian monks, on the subject of a new division of their
territorial limits. The superior was unwilling to assume the
responsibility of deciding a question of such importance, and
resolved to refer it to the infallible tribunal at Rome. Stau-
pitz was a man of great influence in the church and pos-
sessed the confidence of his Sovereign in Germany and of
his spiritual lord in Rome.

When Frederick the Wise founded the university of Wit-
tenberg, he commissioned Staupitz to select a faculty of pro-

70 luther's visit to rome.

fessors. He immediately wrote to a young monk of the mon-
astery at Erfurt, and offered him the chair of philosophy.
This young man had already gained considerable reputation
for learning and piety, and Staupitz, who was well acquaint-
ed with him, appreciated his extraordinary talents, and aug-
ured the most cheering results from his untiring diligence in
study. He knew that his acquaintance with the scriptures
far exceeded that of most of the monks, and that he had
read the writings of the schoolmen and of the fathers, with
inextinguishable ardor. Him he called to Wittenberg, and thus
in the twenty-fifth year of his age, Martin Luther became
associated with men of long established reputation and ex-
tensive learning, and entered on the performance of his du-
ties with the diffidence of inexperienced youth, but yet with
the modest assurance of conscious ability.

Staupitz spent the night in anxious meditation on the im-
portant embassy about to be despatched to the " eternal
city," and had already dictated to his secretary, a large por-
tion of the letter to his holiness. The next morning, imme-
diately after the early mass, he hastened to the cell of bro-
ther Martin, and from mere respect to the excellent youth,
he condescended to knock gently at the door. No answer
was returned, and a louder knock was repeated. All this
was contrary to his usual custom, for as Superior, he could
enter when and where he pleased, without permission of the
inmate. But Luther was his favorite, and he treated him
with extraordinary politeness. Still no answer was returned
to his repeated knocks, though he was certain the monk was
in his cell. At length growing impatient, he rather violent-
ly opened the door, and with astonishment beheld him ab-
sorbed in profound devotion, on his knees before a rude cru-
cifix suspended against the wall. The mind of Staupitz was

LUTHER 3 VISIT TO ROME. 71

not in a very devotional frame, for it was painfully harrassed
with the subject of the embassy, and he felt in no mood to
wait until the monk had finished his morning orisons. " The
day is breaking, brother Martin, and it is time for thee to be
at thy books," said he in a loud tone of voice, accompanied
by a no very gentle shake of the monk's arm.

Luther turned round, and beholding his Superior, now for
the first time conscious of his presence, he hastily rose
from his knees, and reddening with blushes, saluted him rev-
erently, and implored his blessing.

The cell was a small apartment, furnished very simply, it
contained an oaken table of coarse workmanship, and a few
stools, besides a bench. A dozen or two of huge folios were
scattered about, and on the sill of the small grated window,
stood a clock of peculiarly rude construction. An ill exe-
cuted picture of the Virgin, hung on one side of the wall,
while on the other was suspended the crucifix, before which
Luther was prostrate when the Superior entered. On the
bench lay a flute with several books of music.

The person of the monk was of middle size. An eye of
singular vivacity glistened in a face, pale and emaciated from
unwearied study and the rigid observance of the austerities
of his order, — he had a high and expansive forehead, deeply
marked with transverse lines, and a mouth and nose of the
finest mould. Continual meditation had imparted a melan-
choly tinge to his countenance, and at first sight, a repulsive
frown seemed to cloud all his features. His numerous fast-
ings and other monastic exercises, added to a most intense
mental anxiety, gave him the appearance of a man much be-
yond his years. His head was totally divested of hair, ex-
cept a narrow fringe that encircled it just above the ears,
and his dress was the flowing robe of his order, girdled
5

72 ltjtiier's VISIT TO ROME.

round the waist with a broad strap of common leather,
whilst a brass crucifix was suspended from his neck by a
beautifully woven chain of human hair.

Luther's pale cheek reddened when he was thus uncere-
moniously awakened from his devotional reverie by his su-
perior. The latter scarcely observing his embarrassment, and
paying no attention to the request for the blessing, immedi-
ately opened the subject that occasioned so much solicitude
in his mind.

" Be prepared for your journey in two days, brother Mar-
tin," said Staupitz, presuming that every person was certain-
ly aware of the project which so entirely occupied his own
mind.

" My journey ! whither ?" eagerly inquired the astonished
monk.

" Dost thou not know that I have appointed thee to a mis-
sion to Rome? — to Rome thou must go."

" To Rome ! thanks be to the blessed Virgin," said Lu-
ther, turning to the picture on the wall. His face was lighted
up with joy, and yet there seemed a struggle between hope
and doubt depicted on his expressive features. But he knew
Staupitz and could trust him. In a few words, the superior
explained the purport of the journey and promised to give
him his papers and instructions on the eve of his departure.

The mind of Luther was unspeakably elated, — he did not
attempt to study that day, and even his devotions were inter-
rupted by thoughts of Rome. His heart burned to see the
pope, that living representative of God on earth. For many
years he had longed to inhale the sacred atmosphere of the
christian metropolis ; to worship at the shrine of her saints,
to behold her unrivalled glory and be edified by the unspot-
ted example and holy conversation of her numerous clergy.

luther's VISIT TO ROME. 73

To be near the pope, was in his estimation, to be nearer
the throne of God than he had ever before approached. As
the disciple of Mohammed regards it the most meritorious
act of his life, to visit the tomb of the prophet at Mecca,
and the child of Abraham wanders to Jerusalem that his
bones may be buried in the valley Jehosaphat, which to him
is the gate of heaven, so Luther thought that a visit to Rome
would complete his sanctity, and entitle him to canoniza-
tion after death.

An Italian monk was deputed to be his travelling associ-
ate, and on the day of their departure, Luther despatched
his morning devotions in a shorter time than usual. Rome
was in all his thoughts, and he even had occasion to reprove
himself, for unconsciously uttering the word whilst counting
his rosary.

Though travelling on such an important mission, yet he
made no material change in his apparel, and fastening an or-
dinary leathern wallet behind the saddle of his mule, he
mounted, and with a mind full of the most joyous anticipa-
tions, he passed out of the southern gate of Wittenberg.
Nothing interesting occurred during the first few days of
their journey. Brother Antonio, his companion, who had
travelled through that country before, answered all the ques-
tions of the inquisitive German, but always preserved a pro-
found silence whenever he expressed his anticipated rapture
in seeing at Rome, a model of sanctity in every priest,
and faultless perfection in the holy fathers, for surely thought
he, the nearer the pope, the holier the church.

"And are not our brothers and fathers at Rome, most
godly men?" asked Luther.

" They are flesh and blood, brother Martin," replied An-
tonio. " True, — added Luther — but their proximity to his

74 LUTHER S VISIT TO ROME.

holiness must have a sanctifying influence on them, — who can
breathe such a sacred atmosphere, and not be spiritually
healthy ; — who can be so near the sun of righteousness and
not be warmed into divine love ?"

Antonio was glad of the opportunity to change the sub-
ject, and directed the attention of his enthusiastic companion
to the Alps, whose tall summits had now become visible in
the distance. Luther had never before seen a mountain and
was in raptures, for he had a mind that keenly relished the
sublime and beautiful in nature. Even Rome, for a moment
was forgotten and he gazed with delight upon the magnificent
prospect.

" This night," said Antonio, " we will rest in a convent,
located in a most picturesque valley in the mountains."

" And surely the brethren must be holier than we in Ger-
many, for they live so much nearer Rome ; there they live
secluded from the world and undisturbed, devote themselves
to their religious duties," replied the German. Antonio
smiled and introduced another subject.

Just as the last rays of the sun were lingering on the tall
turrets of the convent, they entered the romantic glen in
which it was situated. The evening bell was summoning
the brethren to vespers, and its melancholy toll resounded far
down the valley, awakening an echo from every rock. Lu-
ther and his companion in the meanwhile, worshipped in the
temple of nature, for the lofty mountains, the dark forest,
the overhanging rocks, the rushing cascades and the rude
magnificence of the whole scene, to which the sombre twi-
light gave an additional grandeur, produced an emotion of
indescribable solemnity in Luther's mind, and he was ab-
sorbed in devout astonishment and adoration. When the
evening service had concluded in the convent, they knocked

LUTHER S VISIT TO ROME. 75

at the strongly barred gate, which was opened by a lay bro-
ther of peculiarly rubicund visage and of corporeal dimen-
sions, which rendered locomotion extremely fatiguing. Even
the exertion of swinging back the huge gate, had produced
great drops of perspiration on his hoary brow, and his res-
piratory organs were set into a motion of most inconvenient
rapidity. From their dress he recognized them as brethren
of the sacerdotal order, and admitting them without much
delay, he waddled before them and conducted them into the
audience chamber of the prior. There was not much cere-
mony observed in their introduction, and Luther and his
companion were welcomed to the hospitable convent. The
appearance of the prior greatly astonished the young Ger-
man monk, — he had been surprised at the gross obesity of
the porter, but when he saw the enormous rotundity of the
prior, whose vermillion cheeks hung down in folds of solid
fat, — when he looked upon the ponderous protuberance of
his anterior side, and saw one of his feet deeply imbedded
in flannel to the thickness of an ordinary pillow, his mind
was overcome, and he sat in breathless astonishment. He
was aroused from his reverie by loud peals of laughter, issu-
ing from a neighboring hall, and amidst the tumultuous uproar
he plainly discerned the voices of several females. " Holy
Virgin, preserve us!" thought Luther. The prior observing
his amazement, bid him be composed, and informed him that
this was the anniversary of a festival long celebrated in the
convent, and that the brethren in the next room were prepar-
ing the feast. " But the sisters ?" — said Luther inquiringly.
The prior smiled and shrugged his shoulders rather too vio-
lently, for in his excitement he suddenly moved his gouty
foot, and whilst writhing under the agony, he uttered the
most profane imprecations.

76 luther's visit to rome.

Luther began to doubt the truth of his long cherished sen-
timent, " the nearer Rome, the holier the church,"

Shortly after, all were summoned to the banquetting room,
and now the mind of the German, was completely astounded.
A long table, groaning under the weight of the most luxu-
rious fare, was presented to his sight, and in a few moments
the softly stuffed chairs, covered with rich crimson silk,
were filled by a company of hale, greedy epicureans as ever
fattened on the bounty of the church. And it was Friday
too ! Here and there, interspersed among the brethren, were
certain sisters, who were as boisterous in their mirth and
dexterous in the use of knife and fork as any of their rever-
end male protectors. We need not tell how long this bach-
analian feast endured. Luther could partake but scantily,
for he felt unutterable pain at the beastly gormandizing of
his jovial hosts. Their profane jests, indecent songs, and
impious revelry were insufferable, and he suddenly darted
from the room. He had frequently addressed a gentle ad-
monition to those immediately around him, who at first chided
him kindly for his austerity, but upon its repetition, they
scowled upon him with looks of diabolical fury.

After he had retired to rest, and was just falling into a
gentle slumber, he heard a slight knocking at his door, with
a loud whisper, " Brother Martin, I have aught to tell thee;'
he recognized the voice of the burly porter, although it was
but a whisper, who wrhen admitted said, " Drink not the
wine that I will set before thee in the morning." He was
about to leave the room, after he had given this mysterious
caution, but Luther detained him, and in a few minutes was
informed that the monks had determined to have vengeance
on him for his imprudent admonition of their vices on the
preceding evening. The state of his mind may well be im-

luther's visit to rome. 77

agined. It was a long time before he fell asleep. In the
morning he observed the silver goblet of wine set before
him, but without touching it, he partook of the other fare.
The monks gave evidence of disappointment, but Luther
pretended not to notice it. He left the convent with the
hope of seeing more holy servants of God, the nearer he
approached the holy city.

During the day his mind was so much occupied in reflect-
ing on what he had just witnessed, that the sublime scenery
of the alps almost entirely escaped his notice.

He would occasionally gaze in adoring wonder at the
mountain grandeur around him, but would soon relapse into
a melancholy mood, from which he was scarcely aroused by
the incessant exclamations of admiration on the part of the
Italian. After thus jogging heavily along for many a weary
hour, Antonio caught the first view of Italy. Luther was
awakened from his listleness, — his heart beat more rapidty,
— a new feeling was infused into his soul. We will not de-
scribe his exquisite enjoyment in the various cities through
which he passed, — and his unspeakable gratification in view-
ing the numerous works of art which surrounded him. On
the evening of the fourth day, after the unhappy scene at
the convent of the Appenines, just as they had ascended a
hill of considerable elevation, Antonio exclaimed, Ecca Ro-
ma sancta. Luther looked, and stretching far away into the
distance, lay the holy city. He fell upon the earth, and ex-
claimed, "Holy Rome, I salute thee!" As the first view of
Jerusalem to the Jewish pilgrim awakened all his religious
enthusiasm, which burst forth in a song of praise that his
weary pilgrimage was happily terminated, so Luther was
excited to an extraordinary degree, and he broke out in a
hymn of gratitude to the Virgin, that he was permitted to

78 luther's visit to rome.

see even at a distance the metropolis of the church. Anto-
nio pointed out to him the various holy places as they could
be distinguished at that distance, by their tall spires and
broad cupolas. At length they entered the city just as the
sun was setting. The first thing that especially attracted
their attention, was a long religious procession, which Lu-
ther could with difficulty be prevented from joining. He
could however, not be restrained from dismounting and fer-
vently kneeling before the Virgin as she was borne past; he
was desirous of entering every church and paying his even-
ing sacrifice, but Antonio hurried him along until they arrived
at a place of entertainment. The next morning he rose very
early, for notwithstanding his fatigue, he could scarcely
sleep during the night.

His feelings were highly excited, and he imagined that his
spiritual health had already improved from inhaling the sa-
cred atmosphere of Rome. He immediately delivered his
despatches to the proper authorities, and was informed that
it would require some days to examine them and determine
on the proper course to be pursued in relation to the Augus-
tinian monasteries in Germany. He had also been favored
with letters to several distinguished men, who politely invit-
ed him to their houses. But the first few days he resolved
to devote to the inspection of the celebrated curiosities of
the cit}^. He sallied forth with Antonio and visited every
object of interest both ancient and modern. The magnificent
ruins of ancient grandeur filled his mind with indescribable
delight, and his fine classical taste could rightly appreciate
the beauty and symmetry of their unrivalled architecture.

The impression these things made upon him was never
erased, and it could not well be otherwise. Here was a
German monk, who passed the days of his childhood in the

luther's visit to rome.

79

narrow compass of a miner's lodge, and his youth amid the
dust and rubbish of a monastic school ;— who was totally
unacquainted with mankind, and had never travelled beyond
the confines of his native duchy. No wonder that he was
filled with unspeakable amazement at the dazzling glories of
imperial Rome.

Notwithstanding the intense gratification, which these re-
mains of ancient genius afforded him, yet it was as an eccle-
siastic that he was especially delighted. The numerous
splendid churches were objects of his deepest religious vene-
ration,— the overawing magnificence of their ceremonials, —
the gorgeous habiliments of the officiating priests, — the rav-
ishing charms of the music, — the beauty of the painting and
statuary, all filled his soul with emotions unutterable, and he
felt himself the happiest man on earth. Thus day after day
passed on and he continued to enjoy himself amid the ten
thousand wonders that surrounded him. Much of his time
was spent in devotion in the various churches distinguished
for peculiar sanctity, and he frequently visited every spot
consecrated by some remarkable event or containing some
valuable relic. He approached these with pious awe and
derived from them all the sanctity they are calculated to im-
part. He could every day be seen reverently kneeling at
the shrine of some celebrated saint, and devoutly kissing
some crumbling memento of by-gone glory or ancient piety.
His soul was absorbed in the exciting scenes he every where
encountered, and his days passed away as a dream. But
amid all the dazzling splendor of Rome, there was one
sacred object that had not yet blazed upon his vision. His
holiness, the pope was absent, and Luther had not yet enjoy-
ed the enviable distinction of prostrating himself before the
triple crowned monarch and kissing his sacred slipper.

80 luther's visit to rome.

Though the sun was withdrawn from this firmament for a
while, still the lesser stars shone most brilliantly.

Amid all his mental intoxication and bewilderment, he
could not help observing the apparently wretched condition
of the lower orders of the people. He was pained at wit-
nessing the most unblushing licentiousness of manners pub-
licly exhibited every day, and with evident alarm, he heard
that numerous assassinations were committed every month.
He concluded, however, that all this was confined to the
lower classes, who generally are ignorant and depraved.

As he became better acquainted with the numerous eccle-
siastics to whom he had been introduced, he thought that he
observed a laxity of morals highly unbecoming their exalted
station. Many a double entendre, and immodest allusion
shocked his moral sensibility, and he often shook his head in
profound amazement at their lascivious conversation. When
he dared to reprove them, they laughed in his face, and ask-
ed whether the ecclesiastics in Germany were not composed
of flesh and blood, and had the feelings of men ? " They
have not quite so much flesh as you of Rome," Luther sar-
castically replied, for with few exceptions, the brethren of
Rome were ponderous, stallworth men, exhibiting their car-
nal propensities in a purely literal sense.

He was sometimes permitted to read mass, which he did
with his usual solemnity and devotion, but his clerical asso-
ciates, in the holy offices, became impatient and would fre-
quently cry out, " hurry, hurry, brother Martin, do not let
our lady Mary wait so long for her crucified Son !" His
heart was much pained at this impiety, and he mourned over
the degeneracy of his fellow ecclesiastics.

He was often present at the table of some of the more
eminent dignitaries of the church, who spent much of their

LTTHER'S VISIT TO ROME. 81

time in convivial meetings, for Staupitz's recommendation
secured him access to their company. Having learned noth-
ing in the society of the subordinate clergy, he expected to
receive much advantage from the conversation of their supe-
riors, but alas ! they were not even acquainted with the holy
scriptures. The Olympus of Virgil and Homer was more
interesting to them, than the heaven of Christ and his apos-
tles. Cicero and Livy were more highly esteemed than
Moses and Paul. Many of them denied even the providence
of God and the immortality of the soul, and openly ridiculed
the doctrines and rites of the church. He did not hear the
utterance of one pious sentiment, but was disgusted at their
profane revelry and unholy conversation. They sung the
praises of their mistresses and sacrificed devoutly to the god
of love and wine. Luther retired in deep despondency and
was alarmed in discovering a decreasing veneration for the
Romish church in his own bosom. "If this is Rome" —
thought he — "how fallen! here I expected to behold in

every priest a pattern of piety, but thus far ;" he was

afraid to let his thoughts run on, and suddenly checking him-
self with the consoling reflection^ "that if after all the
clergy are corrupt, the pope's superior sanctity will cover
all their faults" — and he anxiously awaited the return of his
holiness.

Luther was very desirous of hearing the clergy of Rome
preach, but although he visited numerous churches every
day, yet he seldom heard a sermon. He discovered that
preaching was considered a subordinate duty, and that none
of the prelates ever preached except on very extraordinary
occasions. The few discourses he heard were the bare re-
cital of miserable legends, or inflated eulogies of some saint
of doubtful character. The people were not instructed in

82 luther's visit to rome.

their duty, nor warned against sin, but were rather encour-
aged to remain ignorant, and thus they became more deeply
depraved. " Merciful God," sighed Luther, " is this thy
church! is this worshipping thee in spirit and in truth! — but
patience ! the holy father will be a laudable exception, and
will bring these degenerate children to order."

Hark ! the clangor of trumpets ! the shout of victory ! the
rattling of armor ! and the heavy tread of cavalry resound
through Rome ! The whole city is in commotion ! joy is
depicted on every countenance ! all classes of the citizens
participate in the revelry, and all rush tumultuously to a cer-
tain quarter, rending the air with their shouts. And what
occasioned this sudden uproar? was some mighty miracle
performed establishing the infallibility of Rome? No, it
was the holy father, Julius II. in iron coat of mail, marching
his victorious army into the city, — it was his triumphal pro-
cession, for he had just returned from the bloody battle field,
on which he had conquered the Duke of Ferrara ; surround-
ed by armed cardinals and military priests, the haughty pon-
tiff, rode majestically at the head of his blood-sated troops ;
his high waving plume, and glistening armor and proud mili-
tary bearing, rendered him an object of admiration to the
infatuated and enslaved populace of Rome. Julius was pe-
culiarly a military pope, he delighted in battle and blood-
shed, and vastly preferred wielding the sword of the war-
rior to the peaceful crook of the shepherd. Luther for a
while, gazed on in rapt astonishment, but soon silently has-
ted away, sighing most profoundly, " alas ! alas ! this pope
is not the vicegerent of God — this is not the holy and true
church of Christ!"

Luther had now been in Rome for a month, and was final-
ly informed that his business had been properly adjusted,

luther's visit to rome. 83

and that he was at liberty to depart when he pleased. He
was glad of the opportunity, and hastened away with all
possible despatch. He had seen enough to convince him of
the total corruption of Rome, and deeply humbled, disap-
pointed, and ashamed, he bid a last farewell to the mighty
city. Nothing on his way home could interest him — he was
sadly disappointed in Rome, and all Italy besides, was noth-
ing. A thousand various projects entered his mind, and the
necessity of reform was awfully apparent, but he saw no
ground of hope, and mourned over the prospective calami-
ties of the church. He arrived at Wittenberg quite over-
joyed that he could again retire to his study, and spend his
days in the unobtrusive performance of his professional du-
ties. His brethren, unsuspecting and infatuated with the re-
ported glories of Rome as himself, before he had seen it, ask-
ed him a thousand questions, and all were incredulous when he
told them the plain truth, and a few of them even indistinct-
ly muttered something about heresy and punishment. Stau-
pitz knowing the real state of things, begged him to be si-
lent, lest he might be accused of heresy. Luther obeyed,
but said, "I am glad I went to Rome, — yea, a thousand
guilders had I rather lost than not to have been there. I
have learned much."

The advantages which the young German derived from
his pilgrimage to the holy city were highly valuable and im-
portant. He thereby became more expert in business trans-
actions, better qualified for society, less embarrassed in diffi-
culties and more confident in his own abilities. He became
acquainted with the great world as it was, and changed
many opinions which he before tenaciously held. Many
hurtful prejudices were removed and more enlarged views of
men and things, entered his mind. It received a new im-

LUTHER S VISIT TO ROME.

pulse, and lie recommenced his studies with renewed zeal.
He preached with more power, and lectured with more ani-
mation. Thus, day after day, he pushed his investigations
further, until the light of divine truth shone fully on his
mind. The subsequent history of Luther is incorporated
with the history of mankind. The world knows it by heart,
and it was his visit to Rome, in 1510, that first opened his
eyes to the enormous corruptions of the church, and first
awakened in him that desire for reform, which he afterwards
so successfully accomplished, and for which he has received
the plaudits of an admiring world.

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

BY B. KURTZ, D. D.

No. I.

Hieronymus Savannarola suffered martyrdom in Flor-
ence. This faithful witness was condemned to the stake for
no other reason than because he bore testimony against the
unbelief and profligacy of his Romish cotemporaries, and
sought to spread abroad the truth of God's Word, unadul-
terated by human traditions. The melancholy catastrophe
was consummated in 1483 ; — and it was on the 10th of No-
vember of the same eventful year, that the champion of the
Reformation was ushered into life.

When Luther was in the fourteenth year of his age, we
find him attending school in Magdeburg, and compelled by
his needy circumstances to seek a scanty subsistence by the
exercise of his vocal talents in singing before the houses of
the citizens. This was no unusual occurrence in that age,
and was proverbially designated as " obtaining bread for
God's sake ;" — panem propter Deum. Thus when God in-
tends to qualify an individual for future greatness, he pre-
viously schools him in humility, while undue indulgence in
childhood is productive of a train of evils, which not unfre-
quently attend us through life. Luther still lives and reigns
in* this as well as many other of the time-honored customs
of Protestant Germany, in spite of Rationalists and Hegeli-
ans, Papists and Pietists. Some years since when the wri-

86 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

ter stopped to dine at Eisenach, under the very shadow of
Wartburg, a choir of scholars, in their long black cloaks,
came under the windows and sang several hymns. On in-
quiring into the cause, the waiter replied : " This singing is
an ancient practice, (tint altt herkommlicht Anstalt,) estab-
lished by Dr. Martinus Lutherus. We pay two dollars and
half a year, and for that the poor scholars must sing twice a
week before our house ; and so they receive their learning ;
(und dafiir btkommtn sit ihre Studio,.") We arc sorry we
cannot do justice in English to the agreeable pedantry of the
whole speech. How many of the illustrious scholars of
Germany have earned their education in this manner ! Dor-
ing, whose edition of Horace was republished in London in
1820, and who was rector of a school at Guben in 1781,
complains of having to sing before the doors of the citizens
of that town on holidays ; but adds, that the fees made up
too considerable a part of his salary for him to discontinue
the practice.

" Surely the Lord God will do nothing, but he revealeth his
secret unto his servants the prophets;" — thus it is recorded,
Amos iii. 7, and thus Luther was often encouraged by the
predictions of pious men. When lying dangerously ill in
the monastery at Erfurt, he was visited by a priest wrho thus
addressed him : " Be of good cheer, my young magister, you
will not die in this sickness. Our Lord has a mighty work
for you to perform, and will employ you as his instrument to
guide and comfort many people. Whom he loves and de-
signs to train to deeds of distinguished philanthropy, he
causes to pass through the ordeal of adversity; for it is thus
that his patient children acquire stores of useful knowledge."
Many similar prophecies were uttered respecting the mas-
ter-spirit of the sixteenth century; but as these are record-
ed in a preceding chapter, they need not be repeated.

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 87

The brethren of his order, the Augustiuian monks, com-
missioned him to proceed to Rome for the purpose of sub-
mitting their controversies to the decision of the pope. He
readily undertook the embassy, but the abominations that he
witnessed around the papal chair, filled him with horror and
dismay, and bowed down his soul with sorrow and sadness.
He was nevertheless, afterwards often heard to say: " Not
for a thousand guilders would I have been deprived of my
visit to Rome." Instead of a " holy city," he found a So-
dom ; he there beheld a gorgeous and voluptuous chieftain,
occupying the place of the pretended vice-gerent of heaven,
who exacted from his degraded vassals the honors that are
due only to the true God. In the room of faithful servants
of religion, he saw reckless and profligate priests who could
read seven masses before our modest Doctor, in his devout
and solemn manner, could finish one ; and who impatiently
rebuked his tardiness, saying: "Hurry, Doctor; on, on;
don't detain the Virgin's son with your slow-paced devo-
tions." He there became personally acquainted with priests
who ridiculed the sacrament of the holy supper, who, while
they absolved others from their sins, themselves habitually
lived in the most flagrant crimes. Penetrated with the pro-
foundest reverence he entered the "holy city,1' and preseuted
himself before the " holy father ;" and filled with the keenest
anguish and loathing disgust, he took his leave from both.
When he subsequently wielded his potent pen against the
abominations of Rome, his recollections of that sink of mor-
al corruption gave terrific power to the thunders that he ful-
minated against — not the people, but the enormous and hea-
ven-daring abuses of the Romish system.

John Tetzel, the notorious trader in indulgences, was a
domiuican monk. The emperor, Maximilian had determined
6

88 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

to cast him into prison for the crime of adultery. At the
command of two bishops who had not yet compensated
Rome for their mitres, and hoped through Tetzel to secure
the means, this scape-grace ventured to appear within a few
miles of Wittenberg and offer for sale his written licenses to
violate God's holy laws. The mountebank exhibited a red
cross with the insignia of the pope emblazoned upon it. He
executed his commission with great zeal and success, and
without regard to the common rules of decency. He went
so far as to say, that his authority from the pope was so ex-
tensive, that though a man should have violated the person
of the blessed Virgin, yet for money he might be pardoned ;
that he had saved more souls by his indulgences than St.
Peter by all his preaching ; that so soon as the sound of the
cash was heard to tingle in his box, the souls for whose
release from purgatory it was paid, mounted up to heaven;
and that he was empowered to grant indulgences not only for
sins past, but also for those to be committed in future. We
herewith annex a correct extract from his list of prices ; —
for an indulgence

For polyagmy, -

*■' common murder, - - -
" the murder of a father, mother,

brother or sister,
" witchcraft and sorcery,
" perjury, -

" church robbery, -'•-.•-
" sodomy, -

The form of the indulgence or absolution, signed by Tet-
zel, concluded as follows: "Ire-establish you in the inno-

'A ducat is about $2 07.

6 ducats1

7

«

11

(C

2

u

9

a

9

u

12

a

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 89

cence, which you received at your baptism, so that if you
die soon, the gate of punishment will be shut, and the gate
of happiness open to you, and if you do not die soon, this
grace will be reserved and secured to you." !

Luther opposed this infamous traffic, at first with calm-
ness. " It would be better," said he, to the deluded popu-
lace, " to bestow your money in charity upon the suffering
poor than to throw it away upon an impostor in the vain
hope of purchasing pardon. If you would secure the favor
of God, you must repent deeply and abidingly ; you must
turn to God mourning over your guilt and believing in the
Lord Jesus Christ and lead new and holy lives, and thus,
Christ the only author of salvation will without money and
without price grant you the remission of all your sins, which
neither Tetzel nor the pope nor any other creature can con-
fer upon you."

The pope's legate, Cardinal Cajetan, treated our champion
politely at Augsburg in the year 1518; he offered him the
papal favor and high distinction if he would but consent to
pronounce only three short syllables, viz. "iie-vo-co," — that
is, I revoke all that I have promulgated on the subject of in-
dulgences and repentance. " Certainly," replied Luther,
" I will do this and much more, so soon as I am convinced
that what I have written and preached on these topics is at
variance with God's holy Word."

When he was about to proceed to Worms, and his friends
evinced great anxiety as to the result, he remarked : " Sub-
mit the matter to God, and look for any thing rather than
flight and recantation. I shall stand firmly on God's Word ;
in his name and in reliance on his grace, I shall bear testi-
mony to his truth ; I shall never renounce it be the conse-

•See Priestly 's history, vol. 5.

90 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

quences what they may." When they betrayed fears for
his personal safety, he administered comfort to them, and
wrote to Spalatine: "I have been cited to appear before the
Diet at Worms; and thither 1 shall go if there were as many
devils there as there are tiles on the houses. If the work in
which an honest man is embarked is good, and he knows it
to be so, the heart cannot prove craven ; conscious rectitude
imparts courage indomitable."

After Luther's well-known reply before the Diet : " Here
I stand, I cannot otherwise ; God help me !" Charles the V.
could not withhold the observation : " He is a brave monk,
he speaks like one who is a stranger to fear." The emper-
or's promise to grant Luther a safe conduct to Worms was
honestly fulfilled ; and when an attempt was made to induce
Slim to break faith with the " arch-heretic," he replied :
" Though truth should desert the world, an emperor may
not violate his pledge." Thus the Almighty protects his
chosen servants, who confide in his providence and grace.

Luther was in excellent spirits after his return from the
first session of the Diet. He observed to his friends who
crowded around him : " If I had a thousand heads, I would
suffer them all to be taken off rather than renounce God's
inspired truth." Many men of distinction congratulated him
on the noble stand he had taken and manifested great rever-
ence for him. The Duke of Brunswick presented him with
a silver goblet as a tribute of his profound respect. Luther
received it with appropriate sentiments, and added : " as his
Highness has kindly thought of me this day, may our Lord
remember him in mercy in his last hours." When conflict-
ing with death, the Duke spoke of this occurrence writh
great satisfaction, and was blessed with remarkable joy and
hope in dying.

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 91

Cruel and disgraceful was the proclamation of the em-
peror, declaring him an outlaw : " Inasmuch as Luther is
perverse and hardened, and persists in his grossly heretical
errors, so that we cannot but regard him as absolutely insane
or possessed by diabolical spirits, we pronounce him excind-
ed from the church of God, and command that no one extend
to him shelter or lodging, food or raiment, and that all exert
themselves to apprehend and deliver him up to us. In re-
spect to those who aid and abet him, we issue the same or-
ders, and decree that all their goods and chattels be confis-
cated. Nobody shall be concerned in printing his books,
nor be permitted to purchase or read them, under a severe
penalty in every case of disobedience. Because of their
poisonous import, all his writings are ordered to be burned,"
&c. But Jehovah was Luther's shield ; he put it into the
heart of the Elector of Saxony to afford temporary protec-
tion to his persecuted servant, in the hope that in due season
some way of escape would be opened.

It was to the castle of Wartburg, located on a high and
rugged hill, within sight of the pleasant town of Eisenach,
that Luther, after his attendance at the Diet, was secretly
conveyed, as the only place in which he was likely to re-
main secure from the pursuit of his malignant enemies. He
was however, not idle during his ten month's banishment to
this " Patmos," as he was wont to term his sojourn there.
He there continued his study of the Greek and Hebrew lan-
guages ; translated the New Testament into German, and
contended manfully for the right of all christians to read the
scriptures ; a right denied in the Romish church, and only
conceded under peculiar circumstances to the clergy. Re-
specting his translation he said : " I have employed the ut-
most industry and fidelity in the work, and never knowingly

92 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

permitted the slightest error to find its way into the text. I
had no motive to be unfaithful, for God is my witness that I
never expected, sought nor received a farthing for my la-
bor." While at Wartburg he also carried on an extensive
correspondence, especially with his learned friends at the
University at Wittenberg. He exhorted them to " perse-
vere in reading and preaching the truth of God's Word; for
though he should never be permitted to return to them, the
scriptures and Christianity, he declared, would never be sub-
verted. God could cause the very stones to become preach-
ers and reformers." Besides translating, he prepared sev-
eral publications for the press while at Wartburg and preach-
ed every Lord's day to the inmates of the castle, inculcating
especially the duty of prayer.

His numerous labors together with the confinement to
which they necessarily subjected him, brought on depression
of spirits, disease and other severe trials, for which, how-
ever, he cordially thanked God, as they were the means of
exercising him in patience and humility. The sinking of his
mind was really distressing. He sometimes imagined that
Satan stood visibly before him, tempting him to abandon the
translation of the Scriptures ; and on one occasion, it is said,
he fancied he saw the arch-enemy flitting along the wall,
and actually cast the inkstand at him ! The writer had the
privilege of spending an hour in the apartment in the castle
occupied as Luther's studio, and beheld what to this day is
shown as the black mark of the ink on the wall, in evidence
of the reported occurrence. If we take into consideration f
that Luther's imagination was very vivid, his general tem-
perament sanguine and vehement, and that a belief in the
visible appearance of the devil obtained in that age, we will
be disposed to make due allowance for this infirmity, upon

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 93

the supposition that the entire narrative is not a groundless
legend. Amidst all his trials however, the Word of God
was an exhaustless source of comfort to him.

At the earnest solicitation of his friends, he occasionally
sought exercise by walking, out.. As he at that time went
by the name of " Junker Gorge," — ''Squire George, he in
conformity to the fashion of the day, wore a sword. His
attendant, who also acted as equery at the castle, frequently
found it necessary to caution him lest he should betray him-
self during his promenades. He particularly begged him not
to lay off his sword in every house he entered, nor to evince
such eagerness to take up every book he could lay his hands
on, or he would certainly be judged to be a student or man
of learning, instead of a young nobleman. In Marksuhl, a
neighboring village, his nearest kinsmen did not recognize
him, so comepletely did his princely costume metamorphose
his appearance. But in Reinhardsbrunn his disguise could
not conceal him from the knowledge of an old monastic ac-
quaintance. So soon as his attendant observed this, he feign-
ed an excuse to hurry him off. " This very evening," said
he to the young 'Squire, " important duties await you in the
castle, we must not delay a moment longer." It is also said
that he paid a secret visit to Wittenberg during his sojourn
at the castle, sometime in the month of November, 1521.

In 1522, serious innovations and disorder took place at
Wittenberg. Two soi-disant "heavenly prophets,"1 in con-
nection with A. Bodenstein, (called Karlstadt after his native
place,) were the authors of these offensive proceedings.
These fanatics were exceedingly violent, tearing down and
casting away the images from the churches, administering
the Eucharist each to himself, proclaiming inward liberty of

'M. Storch and M. Stubner, of 2wick.au.

94 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

spirit to be external freedom in state, &c. &c. When intel-
ligence of these outrages was communicated to Luther, he
hastened away from his Patmos to the scene of confusion,
(the 3rd of March, 1522,) without the knowledge, and con-
trary to the wishes of his patron, the Elector of Saxony.
On his journey he wrote from Borna to him, stating his rea-
sons for so abruptly leaving Wittenberg. " From respect to
your Electoral Grace," said he, " I consented to be with-
drawn from the world and locked up in the castle for nearly
twelve months ; but impelled by the remonstrances of my
conscience, I have been constrained to break loose from my
confinement. Longer indulgence in retirement would have
brought reproach upon the gospel of my Lord, and afforded
the devil an opportunity for an entering wedge,' and I dare
not yield a hair's breath to the great enemy. I return to
Wittenberg under far higher protection than that which your
Grace can possibly vouchsafe. The undertaking in which
we are embarked is not dependent on human power; the
sword of man may not and cannot defend it. God alone is
our " shield and buckler," and he necdeth not the aid nor
anxiety of frail man ; hence, whoever in this great work,
trusts in the Lord, is his own defence as well as the defence
of the work itself." He added various other explanations :
"His congregation," he remarked, "had most importunately
besought him to return and dispense to them the Word of
life ; as the wolf had invaded his fold, he could no longer
watch over it by means of letters, and must be present. He
was moreover, bound as a minister of Jesus Christ to serve
the God and the gospel of peace by endeavoring to allay the
strife occasioned by the disorderly proceedings of the false
prophets at Wittenberg." The learned and pious jurist, Dr.
Hieronymus Schurf, subsequently addressed a letter to the

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 95

Elector, announcing; Luther's arrival at Wittenberg;, and set-
ting forth with clear and strong reasoning, its great neces-
sity, which letter was previously read and sanctioned by Lu-
ther. Some of the over-zealous disciples of the Reformer,
even of those who ate at the same table with him, by their
imprudence and inconsistency, contributed more to injure his
cause than the papists could effect by their coarse invective
and unmeasured condemnation. Many well disposed and
pious people were offended and injured by the fanaticism and
wickedness of false friends and pretended brethren.

The presence and influence of the Reformer, soon restor-
ed order and harmony at Wittenberg.

About this time Luther published a tract on the depravity
of the priesthood. " It will yet be seen," he stated, " how
disgracefully licentious the priests are and long have been,
and what an exceedingly distressing and alarming aspect the
hierarchy present in reference to discipline, devotion, chas-
tity and morality in general. Cardinals, priests, choristers,
monks, &c. are alike sunk into deep moral degradation."
The Bishop at Augsburg, St. Ulrich, declared that "a ditch
near the nunnery of the holy Gregory in Rome, was a reser-
voir of infants' heads;" and the pious emperor, Frederick III.
observed, that " monasteries were remarkable in this respect,
that to become acquainted with the world in its worst phases,
we must be introduced into them."

Continued onrj>qge S8.

LINES.

BY MISS M. A. E. REESE.

Sometimes I sit and watch the stars

Steal out upon night's azure dome,
And fancy by their light I catch

A glimpse of my Eternal home.
And when the drowsy flow'rets sleep,

And not a leaf stirs on the air,
How do I lend my ear to heaven,

And list the music echo'd there,
Till wearied with its upward flight,

My spirit folds her wings to rest,
Like some lone bird, that finds at last.

Its home upon the mountain crest.

Then from the starry lights above,

I turn my wanderings back to earth ;
And Memory brings the little child

Once more 'round its familiar hearth.
Aye ! here I meet my father's smile !

My mother and my brothers dear ;
And gentle sisters too, ah ! yes,

" We are all here, we are all here."
Here like a summer bird I sing,

Here on my father's knees I "bow ;
And twine in many a golden ring

The locks that slumber on his brow.

My eldest sister ! she who formed

The first bright link in love's own chain,

Aye ! here she smiles ! — the best beloved, — «
The fairest of our household train ;

LINES. 97

Oh ! how we little children wept !

And how our elder brothers sigh'd,
The day she left our own sweet home,

Led by a stranger as his bride ;
And how we watch'd the snow-wreaths fall,

And waited Spring's cool soft'ning showers—
For sister promis'd to return

When April sunshine brought the flowers.

She came, but not as roses come,

With crimson flush upon her cheek,
But like pale Autumn, sad and wan,

With trembling limbs, all faint, and weak ;
And e'er the early buds of Spring

Open'd their dewy leaves in bloom,
My sister perish' d — and they laid

Her in the cold and dreamless tomb.
My father bow'd in silent grief,

My mother check'd her burning tears !
For oh ! 'twas sad to lose so soon

This promise of their coming years.

Since then, how Time has swept our home !

'Tis almost bare as winter bowers !
A few pale leaves and blighted shrubs,

Are all that's left of buds and flowers ;
My father's head is pillow'd low !

My mother — tho' she lingers yet,
Upon her brow light threads of snow,

Are mingled with her locks of jet :
And soon, methinks, her waisted form

Rich robes of Heaven's own light shall wear.
Oh ! should her children follow on,

We'll form a glorious household There !
Baltimore.

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

BY B. KURTZ, D. D.

No. II.

(Continued from page 95.)

'Luther resisted with great emphasis the practice, so
common in his day, of making vows, especially vows of celi-
bacy. These he regarded as a prolific source of licentious-
ness. He adduced clear and cogent arguments to prove that
marriage is honorable and that a christian minister may law-
fully be a husband; maintaining that the priests under the
mosaic dispensation, some of the apostles of our Lord, bish-
ops in the primitive church, as also in after times, and Greek
and German pastors, were married men. The first priest
among Luther's adherents who entered the wedded state,
was Bartholomaus Bernhardt, provost at Kemberg ; and after
him, a pastor at Hirschfeld.

In the forty-second year of his age, in the year 1525, Lu-
ther himself formed a matrimonial alliance with Catharine
Von Bora. She was the daughter of a gentleman of reduced
fortune, and had been a nun of Nimptochen, in Germany. At
the commencement of the Reformation, (1523,) she, with
eight other nuns, convinced by Luther's writings of the im-
propriety of monastic vows, escaped from her convent.
"Our continuance in a cloister," said they, "is incompatible
with the salvation of our souls." This bold step was highly
praised by Luther, who undertook their justification. Catha-
rine was then but twenty-six, and the charms of youth in

©at&avtue turn Movn.

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 99

these circumstances, led her enemies to censure her without
foundation, as having left her convent with unwarrantable
motives.

If Luther had then before him the prospect of any solemn
event, it was that he should be called to ascend the scaffold,
not the steps of the altar. Many months after this, he an-
swered those who spoke of marriage : — " God may change
my purpose, if such be his pleasure; but at present I have
no thought of taking a wife; not that I am insensible to the
charms of a married life ; I am neither wood nor stone ; but
I every clay expect death and the punishment of a heretic."
When he afterwards conceived a preference for Catharine
de Bora, his scruples and the thought of the calumnies which
a marriage to her would occasion, prevented him from seri-
ously indulging the idea. His father however, urged him to
marry, as did also others of his friends; and he was even
reproached for neglecting to enforce his views on this sub-
ject by his own example. " You preach," said Melancthon,
when conversing with him on the importance of his taking a
wife, " you preach what you do not practice." " But one
thought above all," says the distinguished Merle, " was pre-
sent in much power to the conscience of Luther. Marriage
is God's appointment — celibacy is man's. He abhorred
whatever bore the stamp of Rome. " I desire," said he, to
his friends, " to have nothing left of my papistic life." Night
and day he besought the Lord to put an end to his uncer-
tainty. At last a thought came to break the last ties which
held him back. To all the considerations of consistency and
personal obedience which taught him to apply to himself
that word of God — It is not good that man should be alone —
was added a higher and more powerful motive. He recog-
nized that if as a man he was called to the marriage state,

100 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

he was also called to it as a Reformer. This thought deci-
ded him.

" If that monk marries," said his friend Schurff the juris-
consult, " he will cause men and devils to shout with laugh-
ter, and bring ruin upon all that he has hitherto effected."
This remark had upon Luther an effect the very reverse of
what might have been expected. To brave the world, the
devil, and his enemies, and, by an act in man's judgment the
most likely to ruin the Reformation, make it evident that its
triumph was not to be ascribed to him, was the very thing
he most of all desired. Accordingly, lifting up his head, he
boldly replied, — " I'll do it ! I will play this trick to the
world and the devil! — I'll content my father and marry
Catharine !" " I am determined," he added on a subsequent
occasion, " to bear witness to the gospel, not by my words
alone, but by my actions. I am determined, in the face of
my enemies, who already are triumphing and exulting over
me, to marry a nun, — that they may know that they have not
conquered me. I do not take 'a wife that I may live long
with her; but, seeing people and princes letting loose their
fury against me, — in the prospect of death, and of their
again trampling my doctrine under foot, I am resolved to
edify the weak, by leaving on record a striking confirmation
of the truth of what 1 have taught."

On the 11th of June, Luther repaired to the house of his
friend and colleague Amsdorff. He requested Pomeranus,
whom he dignified with the special character of the Pastor,
to give them the nuptial benediction. Lucas Cranach and
Doctor John Apelles witnessed their marriage. Melancthon
was not present.

No sooner had Luther's marriage taken place than all
Christendom was roused by the report of it. On all sides

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 101

accusations and calumnies were heaped upon him. " It is
incest," exclaimed Henry the Eighth. " A monk has married
a vestal !" said some. " Antichrist must be the fruit of such
a union," said others; "for it has been predicted that he will
be the offspring of a monk and a nun." To which Erasmus
made answer, with a malicious sneer. " If that prophecy be
true, what thousands of Antichrists the world has before now
seen." But while these attacks were directed against Lu-
ther, some prudent and moderate men, in the communion of
the church of Rome, undertook his defence. "Luther," said
Erasmus, " has taken to wife a female of the noble house of
Bora, — but she brought him no dowry." One whose testi-
mony carries still more weight, bore witness in his favor.
Philip Melancthon, the honored teacher of Germany, who
had at first been alarmed by so bold a step, now remarked
with that grave conscientiousness which commanded respect
even from his enemies: "If it is asserted that there has been
anything unbecoming in the affair of Luther's marriage, it is
a false slander. It is my opinion, that, in marrying, he must
have done violence to his inclination. The marriage state,
I allow, is one of humility, — but it is also one of sanctity —
if there be any sanctity in this world ; and the scriptures
everywhere speak of it as honorable in God's sight."

At first Luther was disturbed by the reproaches and indig-
nities showered upon him. Melancthon showed more than
his usual kindness and affection towards him; and it was not
long before the Reformer was enabled to discern, in men's
opposition, one mark of God's approval. " If the world
were not scandalized by what I have done," said he, " I
should have reason to fear that it was not according to God's
mind."

102 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

Eight years had elapsed between the period when Luther
first preached against indulgences, and the time of his union
with Catharine Bora. It would be difficult to attribute, as is
sometimes done, his zeal against the corruptions of the
church to an eager desire to enter into the marriage state.
He was already turned of forty-two; and Catharine had pass-
ed two years at Wittenberg since leaving the convent.

Luther's marriage was a happy one. Catharine was ten-
derly attached to him; she was indeed a lovely character; —
pious, modest, gentle, plain in her attire and economical in
her house, where she displayed all the hospitality of the
German noblesse without their pride. She softened to him
the numerous cares of life, shared in his toils and anxieties,
multiplied and sweetened its enjoyments, and cheered him up
amid his numerous trials. The charms of domestic life soon
dispelled the dark clouds raised around him by the wrath of
his adversaries. "His Ketha" he said, "comforted him
when cast down, by reciting passages of the Bible, relieving
him from the cares of the household, sitting by him in his
intervals of leisure, while she worked his portrait in em-
broidery, or reminded him of the friends he had neglected
to write to, and amused him by the simplicity of her ques-
tions." A sort of dignity seems to have marked her deport-
ment, for Luther occasionally spoke of her as, " My Lord
Catharine. ." But she was nevertheless truly humble and de-
vout ; her prayers mingled with his at the domestic altar,
and in all respects she illustrated the practical power of re-
ligion in her daily walk and conversation, proving herself a
help-meet worthy of such a husband. He was deeply sen-
sible of the inestimable jewel God had bestowed upon him
in his beloved Catharine. " God be praised," said he in a
letter written just one year after his marriage, "for blessing
me with such a wife ; she is far more to me than my fondest

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 103

hopes led me to expect ! I would not yield up my poverty
with Catharine for all the treasures of earth.1' He was often
heard to exclaim: " my wife is worth more to me than would
be all the riches of the Yenitians ; she was given to me in
answer to prayer; her virtues are inappreciable, and she has
been to me a faithful and most affectionate wife. His letters
were full of tenderness for Catharine, whom he styled, " his
dear and gracious wife," "his dear and amiable Ketha;"
and his manner acquired more playfulness from the society
of his Catharine.

The care of the house, of course, devolved on Catharine,
and it was no easy task with their small income to make
their dwelling a cheerful and hospitable resort for strangers
and friends; yet such it was. The neat little parlour, with
its windows shaded by vines instead of silken drapery,
opened into a garden, where both she and Luther, like our
first parents, cultivated the earth. Their table wras supplied
with vegetables from it, and fruits and flowers came in suc-
cession. " I have made a garden," wrote Luther to Spalati-
nus, " and in the middle of it, I have made a fountain. I
have succeeded in both. Come and see us, and you shall be
crowned with roses." This was in 1525.

Nothing could be pleasanter than the dwelling and garden
of Luther. In his household, with his Catharine by his side,
he wras no longer the austere Saxon Reformer. Every ob-
ject brought to his well-stored mind some pleasant thought
or allegory ; in the latter he took great delight.

" See, Catharine," said he, as he held up a grain of bar-
ley ; " ah ! it has a great deal to suffer from men.1 First they

•Michelet says, see the beautiful English ballad of John Barleycorn. Eng-
lish readers will recollect it is by Burns, the Ayrshire ploughman ; probably
his first idea was taken from Luther.

104 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

bury it in the earth ; when the plant springs up and is ripe,
they cut it, beat it, dry it, and distil it ; make drink of it,
and give the drink to make tipplers. Flax too, is martyred
in the same cruel manner. When it is ripe, they tear it,
they drown it, they dry it, they beat it, they strip it, they
spin it, they weave it, and make cloth of it; when the cloth
is worn out, they make it into tinder, or bandages for wounds
and bruises ; they make wicks of it, or they sell it to manu-
facturers, who make it into paper; this paper is used for
writing, for printing, for making cards, and at length loses
all value, and is thrown away as worthless. These plants,
like other creatures that are useful to us, have much to suf-
fer; good and pious Christians, also, have much to endure
from the wicked."

The house of Luther was often enlivened by music. One
day, when he had some musicians for guests, he listened to
their performances with admiration. Suddenly he exclaim-
ed, " If God grants us such noble gifts in this life, which is
only dirt and misery, what will he not give us in the life to
come ? of which this is only the beginning."

To one who played on the harp he said, " My friend, play
such an air as David formerly did. I believe, if he were to
come back, he would be astonished to find people so skilful
in his art. Music is one of the noblest and most magnificent
presents God has made to us. Satan is a bitter foe to music.
It repulses temptations and bad thoughts ; — he cannot stand
against it."

Melancthon and his wife (Margaret,) were frequent guests
in the pleasant little parlour. Many were the interesting con-
versations, that passed within the circle. It was a long while
before Catharine was wholly divested of the timidity and res-
traint which her early life had imposed upon her, and most

pa

1

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 105

truly might she have said to Luther, "God thy law, thou
mine." She often addressed him by the title of Sir (Herr) to
the great amusement of Margaret, who loved her Philip with
that perfect love which casteth out fear; but their ages ac-
corded. She sometimes rallied Catharine upon her respect-
ful and obedient manner. Luther replied, u I do not know
what Melancthon thinks; but, if I wanted an obedient wife,
I would have her carved out of stone ; otherwise I should
not expect to find one." Nevertheless, his testimony to the
character of women was cheerfully given.

" I have often noted," said he, " that women receive the
doctrine of the gospel more heartily than men ; they are far
more fervent in faith. They hold to it more stiff' and fast
than men do, as we see in the loving Magdalen, who was
more hearty and bold than Peter."

He had always dreaded solitude. u It is written of St.
Paul," said he, " that when he had suffered shipwreck and
great hunger fourteen days together, he went afterwards to
his brethren, by whom being courteously received, he re-
covered himself again, was refreshed and comforted. Even
so when I am in heavy tribulations, then I go to my swine-
herd and swine, rather than be alone. The heart of a human
creature is like a mill-stone in a mill ; when corn is shaken
thereon it turneth and grindeth it to meal ; but if no corn is
there it still turneth and grindeth away itself. So it is with
the heart of a human creature; it will be occupied; if it
have not the works of its vocation in hand to be busied with,
then cometh the devil and bringeth tribulations and heavy
and painful thoughts. ' Wo to him that is alone? When I
am melancholy, ill-humored, and heavy-minded, then I aban
don solitude, and repair to people and talk with them."

106 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

Now he was seldom alone; Catharine, whom he sometimes
called his rib, was constantly by his side ; and, by her en-
dearing attention, her sympathy and affection, gave new
charms to the life of the Saxon Reformer.

The tenderness and deep sentiment, with which he regard-
ed his wife and children, were an evidence that he was
formed for domestic life. When his infant was first brought
to him, he said with emotion, " I would gladly have died at
the age of this infant, and joyfully yielded all the honor that
this world can give."

When playing with one of his children, who was full of
the gayety and sports of childhood, he said, "Thou art the
innocent little simpleton of our Lord, under grace, and not
under the law. Thou hast no fear and no anxiety ; all that
thou doest is well done. We old simpletons torment our-
selves by eternal disputes upon the word. ' Is it true ?' c Is
it possible?' ' How is it possible?' we ask incessantly.
Children, in the simplicity and purity of their faith, are cer-
tain, and doubt nothing which regards their safety. We
ought to follow their example for our own salvation, and
trust to the simple Word. But the devil is always throwing
something in our way. Therefore it is better to die early."

" Ah, how my heart yearned," said Luther to Catharine
shortly after his return from a journey, for you and our chil-
dren, when I was sick from home. I feared I should never
see you and our children again ; what anguish did this sepa-
ration cost me ! There is no person so disengaged from the
ties of nature as not to feel their power. Nature is strong.
What a noble bond is that which unites man and woman !"

Luther had that poetical and beautiful power of connect-
ing the common events and blessings of life with something
holier and higher. A branch of a tree, loaded with cherries,

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 107

and put upon his table, in primitive simplicity ; the innocent
pleasure of his wife, when she treated him with a dish of
fish from his own little pond in the garden, all awoke higher
thoughts and led him to the Fountain of good. On a fine
spring day he walked in his garden, this garden that was the
source of so much pleasure to his Catharine and himself.
They both regarded attentively the trees loaded with blos-
soms, and the new-born flowers, putting forth their perfumes
and gay colors. lC Glory to God," said Luther, " that calls
all nature to new life. See these trees ! they are already
filled with fruit. What a striking image of the resurrection
of man ! Winter is death, and summer is the resurrection.
Look at this flower ; it was broken at the stem last August.
When all other flowers are withered and decayed, this is fair
and fresh, and therefore it is called amaranthus, and, in win-
ter, they make garlands of it. So is God's Word ; it will
never lose its freshness, never wither nor decay."

One evening Luther observed a little bird perched upon a
tree, and settling himself as if for the night. " This little
bird," said he, "has chosen his place of rest, and will sleep
quietly; he does not think of to-morrow, but sits tranquilly
on his twig, and leaves God to think for him."

There was a little birdsnest in the garden; the birds were
frightened when any one came near, and flew away. Luther
exclaimed, " Ah, little flutterers, do not fear me; I wish you
nothing but good, if you could only believe me. It is thus
we refuse to trust in God, who, so far from doing us evil,
has given us his own Son."

" God would soon grow rich," said he one day, " if he
would be more provident, and deny us the use of his crea-
tures. If he were to keep back the sun, lock up the air,
detain the water, and quench out the fire, we should willing-

108 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LTJTHER.

ly give all our wealth to have his creatures back again. But
he so liberally heapeth his gifts upon us, that we claim them
by right. Therefore his innumerable benefits hinder and
darken the faith of the believers, — much more, of the un-
godly."

One child after another had been added to the family of
Luther; John, Martin, and Paul, with three daughters,
Elizabeth, Madelaine, and Margaret. Elizabeth died at the
age of eight months ; on her tombstone was inscribed ' Hie
dormit Elizabetha, jiliola Lutheri.

Soon after this event he wrote to a friend, " There are no
ties in society more beautiful, more elevating, and happier,
than a well-assorted marriage. It is a pleasure to behold
two people living together in wedlock, in harmony and love;
but there is nothing more bitter and afflictive than when these
ties are torn asunder. Then, too, comes the death of chil-
dren. This sorrow, alas, I have experienced."

A new affliction was in store for Luther and his wife ;
they had early buried an infant, but they were now called to
resign their Margaret at the age of fourteen. She was a
most endearing child, and united the firmness and persever-
ance of the father, with the gentleness and delicacy of the
mother. When she gi^ew very ill, Luther said, " Dearly do
I love her! but, O my God, if it be thy will to take her
hence, I resign her to thee without a murmur."

He then approached the bed, and said to her, " My dear
little daughter, my beloved Margaret, you would willingly
remain with your earthly father; but, if God calls you, you
will also willingly go to your heavenly Father."

She replied, " Yes, dear father; it is as God pleases."

" Dear little girl," he exclaimed, " O how I love her! the
spirit is willing but the flesh is weak."

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 109

He then took the Bible and read to her the passage in
Isaiah; "Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead
body shall they arise. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in
dust, for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall
cast out the dead."

He then said, " My daughter, enter thou into thy resting-
place in peace."

She turned her dying eyes towards him, and said, with
touching simplicity, " Yes, father."

When her last moments were near, she raised her eyes
tenderly to her parents, and begged them not to weep for
her. " I go," said she, " to my Father in heaven," and a
sweet smile irradiated her dying countenance. Luther threw
himself upon his knees, weeping bitterly, and fervently
prayed God to spare her to them ; — in a !"ew moments she
expired in the arms of her father. Catharine, unequal to
repressing the agony of her sorrow, was at a little distance,
perhaps unable to witness the last, long-drawn breath. When
the scene was closed, Luther repeated fervently, " The will
of God be done ! — yes, she has gone to her Father in hea-
ven." Philip Melancthon, who, with his wife, was present,
said, "Parental love is an image of the Divine love impress-
ed on the hearts of men ; — God does not love the beings he
has created less than parents love their children."

When they were about putting the child into the coffin,
the father said, " Dear little Margaret, I see thee now life-
less, but thou wilt be reanimated;— thou wilt shine in the
heavens as a star! even as the sun! I am joyous in spirit,
but in the flesh most sorrowful. It is wonderful to realize
that she is happy, better taken care of, and yet to be so sad."

Then turning to the mother, who was bitterly weeping,
he said, "Dear Catharine, remember where she is gone, —

110 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

ah, she has made a blessed exchange. The heart bleeds
without doubt ; it is natural that it should ; but the spirit, the
immortal spirit, rejoices. Happy are those who die young; —
children do not doubt, — they believe; with them all is
trust ; — they fall asleep."

When the funeral took place, and people were assembled
to convey the body to its last home, some friends said, they
sympathized with him in his affliction. " Be not sorrowful
for me," he replied; " I have sent a saint to heaven. — O may
We all die such a death ! gladly would I accept it now !"

To his friend, Justus Jonas, he soon after wrote the fol-
lowing touching letter ;

"23d September, 1542.

" I tioubt not thou hast heard of the birth of my little
Margaret into the kingdom of Christ. My wife and I ought
only to think of rendering thanks for her happy transition
and peaceful end ; — for by it she has escaped the power of
the flesh, the world, the Turks,1 and the devil ; yet nature is
strong, and I cannot support this event without tears and
groans, or, to speak more truly, without a broken heart. On
my very soul are engraved the looks, the words, the ges-
tures,— during her life, and on the bed of death, — of my
obedient, my loving child! Even the death of Christ (and
what are all deaths in comparison with that?) cannot turn
away my thoughts from hers as it ought. She was, as thou
knowest, lovely in her character, and full of tenderness."

On one occasion when looking at Catharine and their six
children, he remarked : " What comfort and delight the pope
and priesthood are deprived of by their unnatural celibacy !
May God bless all pious married people and their children,
so that they may meet again where parting shall be no more

■At this time there was a great apprehension from the war with the Turks.

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. HI

forever ; and may there be a speedy end of all dishonor and
impurity and of all religious orders and institutions where
uncleanness prevails."

"The Holy Scriptures," said he, "are like a fair and spa-
cious orchard, wherein all sorts of trees do grow, from which
we may pluck divers kinds of fruits ; for in the Bible we have
rich and precious comforts, teachings, admonitions, warnings,
promises, and threatenings, &c. There is not a tree from
which I have not shaken at least a couple of apples or
pears."

Luther was exceedingly charitable, and often gave more
than he could well atFord. Indeed he never refused giving,
in some form or other. Once, when he was applied to by a
poor student, he said, "Well, Ketha, we must find some-
thing to bestow." Poor Catharine was sadly perplexed, and
obliged to confess, that not a farthing remained. He then
took a silver goblet, and, giving it to the youth, desired him
to dispose of it and keep -the money.

Erasmus was accustomed to say of Luther, " All men
agree as to the purity of his morals, which is a great testi-
mony in favor of a man who has so many enemies."

Of Luther it may be said, that, at the risk of his life, he
broke the chains which enslaved the human mind, and re-
stored his fellow-men to light and liberty. Whereas Eras-
mus cast off his own chains, but would not sacrifice his
peace for the freedom of others; but we should never forget
how much he contributed to prepare the minds of men for
the reception of truth and liberty.

Luther gives a beautiful tribute to Melancthon. " I," said
he, " am born to be a rough controvertist ; I clear the ground,
pull up weeds, fill up ditches, and smooth the roads. But to

112 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

build, to plant, to sow, to water, to adorn the country, be-
longs, by the grace of God, to Melancthon." *

" Of all the Psalms," said Luther, " the hundred and
eighteenth is the one that affects me most deeply ; it is mine
as truly as if it were written for me."

Those who read this noble psalm, will be struck with its
application to the whole life of Luther ; it is. indeed full of
the very spirit which he breathed.

" I love the second psalm," said he, " with all my heart;
it strikes and slashes valiantly among the kings, prinees, and
counsellors."

"I would not," said he, conversing with Melancthon,
" take the wealth of the whole world to begin the work
against the Pope ; and, when I think on him who called me
to do it, I would not for the wealth of the world but have
begun it."

Another letter that he wrote to the Elector John must be
added.

" Grace and peace in Jesus Christ, most gracious Prince !
I have deferred a long time thanking your highness for the
garments that you were kind enough to send me ; I do it now
with all my heart. In the mean time, I humbly beg your
grace not to believe those who represent me as destitute. I
am already too rich for my own conscience. It is not con-
sistent for me, who am a preacher, to live in luxury or
abundance ; neither do I wish it. The repeated favors of
your Highness begin to alarm me ; I would not be among

'When Melancthon arose to preach on some occasion, he took this text,
" I am the good shepherd." On looking round upon his numerous and res-
pectable audience, his natural timidity entirely overcame him, and he could
only repeat the text over and over again. Luther, who was in the desk
with him, at length impatiently exclaimed, " You are a very good sheep ;"
and, telling him to sit down, took the same text and preached an excellent
discourse from it.

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 113

those whom Jesus Christ has warned, 'Woe to you who are
rich, for you have already received your reward.' Neither
would I be a charge upon your Highness, whose purse ought
to be always open for important objects. The brown cloth
sent was too much ; but, to convince you that I am not un-
grateful, I shall wear, in honor of your goodness, the black
garment, though it is really too costly for me. If it were
not a present from your Grace, I could not be induced to
wear such a dress.

*' I would likewise entreat of you to allow me the liberty
of sometimes asking a favor, which your anticipation of my
wants has hitherto prevented, and taken from me the courage
to ask for others, who are more in want of aid than myself.
Jesus Christ recompense your generosity. This is the peti-
tion that I offer with my whole heart. Amen.""

Luther employed the mildest and kindest measures among
his popish and fanatic neighbors to restore harmony. But
most of them hardened their hearts and turned a deaf ear to
the best counsels and most affectionate entreaties. He never-
theless advised his oppressed friends to suffer with patience,
to commend themselves and their cause to God ; and in hum-
ble dependance on him, to read his Word, pray over it, and
seek to preserve a conscience void of offence. " God/1 said
he, " never forsakes his faithful children ; he will come to
your relief in due season and work out a glorious deliver-
ance for you." A short time afterwards this promised de-
liverance came.

His opponents reported that many of his followers led a
disorderly life, and therefore his teachings were of the devil.
" Not so," replied the faithful man, " they know most of
those reports to be false. And we know with equal certain-
ty that the papists and fanatics inculcate doctrines not found

114 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

in the Bible ; and hence the pope's chair and his schools and
ordinances and false exegesis and pretended sanctity will all
in due time be overturned and demolished."

Luther and Melancthon and others were required by the
Elector to engage in a series of church-visitations, which
resulted in the happiest consequences. Numerous abuses
were abolished, and the institutions of learning and the
church, were greatly improved, and their usefulness in-
creased. About this time he addressed a letter to the Elec-
tor, characterized by his wonted candor : " In every case
in which a town or village is able to support a school and
church, it is the prerogative of your Grace to require it. If
they refuse, notwithstanding the benefits that would accrue
to parents and children, your Grace being the highest guar-
dian of the rising generation, are bound to employ the re-
quisite measures to enforce it, just as in the case when
bridges, roads, &c. are to be made for the common weal.
Whatever is indispensable to the prosperity of the state and
intended for the equal advantage of the people at large,
should be required at the hands of all. Now, it is obvious,
that no duty is more vital than that of training up successors
to occupy our places when we pass away from the present
scene of action. To this end we must have schools and
houses of worship. But if the congregatious are too poor to
meet so heavy an expenditure, there are the large estates of
the monasteries which were ostensibly, though by a sad mis-
take, founded for the good of the public; how can those es-
tates be more fitly applied ? The wealth of the monasteries
is of no use to your Grace's exchequer, nor should it be
claimed in behalf of the public treasury; but if devoted to
schools and churches, it will fulfil its appropriate destiny."

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 115

During his church-visitations Luther took special pains to
enforce the great importance of prayer and catechetical in-
struction. He frequently made inquiries to ascertain the
amount and character of the religious knowledge among the
people. While prosecuting this investigation, he one day
asked a poor peasant : " What is meant hy God's being al-
mighty?'1'' the individual hesitated, — and finally answered : J
don't know. " No indeed, I dare say you don't," replied Lu-
ther, nor do I; not all the learning in the world can inform
us what God's almighty power is. But do you continue to
believe in all simplicity that God is your dear and faithful
Father, who will and can, and knows best how, to help and
bless you and your family and all around you."

In order to remedy the lamentable ignorance of the peo-
ple, Luther wrote his smaller and larger catechisms. In the
preface of the former, he indulges in the following lament :
" What a distressing state of things have I recently discov-
ered among the poor neglected people ! Help blessed Lord !
Even among the more intelligent, what astounding darkness
in religious matters, and especially among the peasantry.
Their very teachers and spiritual guides are too ignorant to
instruct them ; and yet they all pass for christians, they are
baptized and confirmed, and go the Lord's supper! But they
are not even acquainted with the Lord's prayer, the creed or
the ten commandments ; and absolutely live on like irrational
animals ! Oh ye bishops and priests, what answer will ye
make to an insulted Judge when he shall come to make in-
quisition?— when he shall call you to an account for so
shamefully neglecting the people and disgracing your holy
office?

If Luther had never done more than wrrite his two cate-
chisms and introduce them into churches and schools and

116 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

among the people, and revive, as he did, family worship, the
world would owe him an inextinguishable debt of gratitude.
He travelled from place to place organizing schools and ex-
horting teachers and others to pray and read the Bible in
their families, and to lead peaceable, quiet and holy lives.

As an evidence of the good effects of the introduction of
catechetical instruction in schools by Luther, it is related by
the pious Mathesius, that at the first siege of Vienna, a lad
was taken prisoner and carried to Turkey. During his cap-
tivity, he wrote a letter to his parents informing them of the
strategems employed to proselyte him to Mohammedanism.
But he bid them not to fear apostacy, for said he, " I have
not forgotten and never can forget what I learned in my cat-
echism at school. That instruction was blessed to my soul,
and I am determined, by the grace of God, to cling to the
truth and continue till death to believe in Christ, my only
Savior." " Whoever preserves in his heart," adds the pious
Mathesius, " the religious instruction contained in the cate-
chism, prepared by Luther for the young, will not be at a
loss how to live and die as a christian, whether his lot be
cast among Turks or papists."

o

LUTHER BECOMES A MONK.

BY B. KURTZ, D. D.

It had for some time been a favorite idea with John Lu-
ther, the miner of Mansfeld, that his son, the embryon Re-
former, should become a learned and distinguished man, in
due time contract a rich and honorable marriage, and thus
elevate the family to a higher rank in society. As a means
to this end, the father had determined, that after ample pre-
liminary qualifications, the son should devote himself to the
study of jurisprudence; and this accorded well with the pri-
vate wishes of the ambitious youth.

In the year 1505, Luther was constituted Doctor in Phil-
osophy by the university of Erfurt, then the most celebrated
seat of learning in all Germany. The ceremony attending
the bestowment of this honor, was performed with more
than usual pageantry, and the whole scene is represented as
one of great magnificence. Encouraged by this flattering
testimonial to his scholarship, he looked forward with re-
newed ambition to legal pursuits as the stepping-stone to fu-
ture eminence.

But He who " turneth the heart of man whithersoever he
will," ordered otherwise. Luther had lately, for the first
time in his life, providentially met with the Bible, and also
passed through a severe sickness. When, during his illness
he expressed doubts of his recovery, an old priest cheered
him up with the prediction : " My dear bachelor, take cour-

120 LUTHER BECOMES A MONK.

age ! you will not die this time," &c. All these occurrences
seemed to intimate, that Providence designed calling him to a
new vocation. Having, as just remarked, found the long
hidden treasure of God's Word, he diligently read it ; and
his conscience being partially awakened, he began to feel
that religion was " the one thing needful." Deeply impress-
ed with the conviction of the purity of the divine character,
and remembering the penalties denounced against iniquity ;
he tremblingly pressed home upon himself, the interesting
inquiry : Jim I in favor with God ? — His own heart sternly
responded in the negative ; and true to hi*s prompt and deci-
ded character, he at once resolved to do all within the lim-
its of his ability, to secure a well-grounded hope of eternal
life.

Two events occurred in close succession, which conspired
to confirm his resolution. One was the death of a beloved
friend, and the other a violent thunder-storm.

History furnishes two accounts of these events, differ-
ing somewhat collaterally, but harmonizing in every essen-
tial feature; we shall lay them both before the reader.

Among Luther's college friends was Jllexis, a youth with
whom he was very intimate, and whom he greatly esteemed.
A rumor reached Erfurt that this beloved friend had been
murdered. An assassin had assailed him, and too success-
fully accomplished his fatal purpose. Luther hastened to
the spot and ascertained the truth of the report. He was
exceedingly distressed, and overcome with the most painful
apprehensions, he exclaimed : " What would become of me
if I should be thus suddenly called away?" — This happened
in the summer of 1505.

During the same summer, Luther availed himself of the
vacation in the university to pay a visit to Mansfeld, the

LUTHER BECOMES A MONK. 121

abode of his infancy and the residence of his fond parents.
It is supposed that one main object of this visit was to open
his heart to his father and. obtain his consent to abandon the
idea of studying law, and to qualify himself for the priest-
hood. He was aware of the difficulties in his way. The
priests, for the most part, were an idle, dissolute and unpop-
ular class of men ; their vices rendered them objects of con-
tempt and odium. The father had put himself to many in-
conveniences to meet the expenditures attending the educa-
tion of his son, and calculated largely on his future celeb-
rity ; and would therefore not be likely to yield up his proud
hopes in reference to his favorite project. We are not in-
formed how far Luther sounded his father on the plan then
forming in his mind; but it is presumed, that the effort was
unsuccessful. While on his way back to the halls of the
Academy, and when within a short distance of Erfurt, he was
overtaken by a violent storm. The artillery of heaven
caused the welkin to ring, and accompanied by the light-
ning's vivid flash, filled him with dread; and to complete
the awfulness of the scene, a thunderbolt actually struck the
ground at his feet. Alarm seized hi,s mind; death, judgment
and eternity presented themselves tohis thoughts in all their
terrors, and addressed him in tones never before heard by
him. He threw himself upon his knees, and (" mit Ersch-
recken und Angst des Todes umgeben,") encompassed with
the anguish and terror of death, he made a vow, that if God
would watch over him and permit him to reach his home in
safety, he would renounce the world and consecrate himself
to his service in retirement, self-denial and devotion.

Having without deliberation or counsel, entered into this
vow, he next inquired in what manner he must carry it into
effect? He had indeed already endeavored to discharge all
8

122 LtTTIIER BECOMES A MONK.

his duties, but nevertheless felt that his soul was polluted and
that he was unfit to appear before God. He must become
holy ; for this he now panted as eagerly as he had ever be-
fore thirsted for knowledge. But how should he attain to
holiness? This was to him an absorbing question, which
painfully agitated his bosom. His reflections were strongly
attracted to monastic life. He had heard of the high pre-
tensions of the cloister as a means of renewing and cleans-
ing moral character ; and he accordingly determined to be-
come a member of one of the numerous monachal fraterni-
ties with which the country then abounded. In a convent
he would be separated from the world, could read masses
without number, practise self-denial ad libitum and be con-
stantly engaged in acts of devGtion ; there he could serve
God without interruption, be purged from sin, become per-
fectly pure and certainly make sure the salvation of his soul !
Thus he falsely reasoned, and it was this process of argu-
ment that made him a monk.

This is one account of the providential occurrences which
became the instrumental cause of changing the vocation and
whole destiny of Luther. The other is brief and soon re-
lated. It differs from the above only in one particular, viz.
that Alexis was in company with Luther during the thunder-
storm, and instead of being assassinated, was killed by the
same thunderbolt which so much alarmed Luther. The for-
mer version appears, after the most patient investigation, to
be the best authenticated. Mathesius and Selneccer, both
cotemporaries of Luther, regard the latter as apocryphal ;
and both together, with Stang* Keil? and numerous others
of the highest authority, have decided the first version to be
the true one.

1 See his " Leben und Wirken," of Luther.

2 See " Merkwurdige Lebensumstande Dr. M. Luthers," by F. S. Keil.

EUT1IER BECOMES A MOTCK, 123

But whichever account be correct, it is manifest that the
hand of Providence was in the whole matter. It was doubt-
less, the Most High God who prostrated the .young Doctos
of Philosophy, the ambitious aspirant to the bar, the intend-
ed jurisconsult*, and thus stamped upon his character a new
image, and gave to his whole after-life, a new direction.
Rubianusj one of Luther's friends at the university of Erfurt,
wrote to him in later times : " Divine Providence foresaw
what you would one day become; when on your return from
your parents, the 'fire of heaven struck you to die ground,,
like another Paul, near the city of Erfurt, and separating
you from us, led you to enter the Augustine order." Thus,
similar circumstances marked the conversion of two of the
greatest instruments, chosen by Divine Providence, to effect
the two greatest revolutions that have ever taken place upon
the earth, Paul and Luther.

Luther kept his intentions profoundly private until the
evening of the 17th of July, when he invited his college
friends to a cheerful and simple repast. He designed on that
occasion to divulge the secret and take leave of the com-
panions of his studies and pleasures, and of the world in
general. When in the course of the evening he announced
his intention, his young friends were all filled with astonish-
ment and regret ; they opposed it with all their might and
employed their utmost endeavors to change his views ; but
in vain. That very night, probably dreading their future
importunities, he vacated his lodgings, leaving behind his
furniture and books, excepting only Virgil and Plautus, (he
had no Bible of his own at that time.) What a selection for
a man who desired to live only for God ! Virgil and Plau-
tus ! — an epic poem and comedies ! This circumstance
shadows forth the deluded state of his mind at that juncture.

124 LUTHER BECOMES A MONK.

With these two books he sallied forth, in the darkness of
the night, towards the convent of the hermits of St. Augus-
tine. He was admitted ; and the doors were closed ! Be-
hold him now a recluse ; separated as he supposed forever,
from his parents, his companions in studyrand all irreligious
associations; and that at the age of twenty-one years and
nine months ! The inmates of the cloister gathered around
the young doctor, full of admiration; they commended his
decision, and lauded in extravagant terms, his renunciation
of the pride and vanity, the smiles and flattery of the world.

The next day he took leave of his friends by letter, and
sent his father the apparel he had till then worn, and the ring
he had received when the honors of the university had been
conferred upon him, in order that nothing might remind him
of the world and its favors; upon all which he had now
voluntarily turned his back.

His friends at Erfurt were both surprised and distressed ;
they especially grieved that such eminent talents and supe-
rior scholarship should be entombed in the indolence and
listlessness of monastic life. They hastened to the convent
in the hope of prevailing on him to retract, but the doors
were barred, and entrance Avas denied them. A whole month
must elapse before the new monk could be seen or spoken to.

His father was more incensed than any one else. He
knew that convents had already ruined many ; he was not
ignorant of the weak points in his son's character, and hence
he feared that, after the first moments of enthusiasm should
have passed away, the idle life of a monk might either tempt
the young man to despair or occasion him to fall into some
grievous sin. Besides, he had, as already suggested, formed
plans of family aggrandizement for his son ; and now all his
ambitious projects were overthrown in one night by this im-
prudent step. He became indignant, and wrote an angry

LUTHER BECOMES A MONK. 125

letter to his son, in which he used a less respectful mode of
addressing him than he had been in the habit of doing ever
since he had been promoted to the doctorate.1 He Withdrew
his favor and declared him disinherited from a father's love.
In vain did John Luther's friends, and doubtless his wife,
endeavor to soften his displeasure, by saying: " If you would
make a sacrifice to God, let it be the best and dearest of
your possessions, your son, your Isaac." The inexorable
town-councillor of Mansfeld would listen to nothing. When
at a later period Luther sought to justify his conduct by re-
minding his father of the terrified state of his mind when he
made the vow, the latter replied : " You should have inquired
whether that terror was not a diabolical delusion, instead of
a sign from heaven. Besides, it is the duty of children to
obey and honor their parents, and not to act without their
knowledge and in opposition to their counsel."

It was not until two of Luther's brothers suddenly died
with the plague, and the report, about the same time was
conveyed to the father, then in deep affliction, that "the
monk of Erfurt was also dead," that the agonized parent
yielded to the importunities of his friends, to be reconciled
to the young novice. " If it should be a false report," said
they, " at least sanctify your present affliction by consenting
that your son should be a monk." u Well, be it so," said
John Luther, with a heart broken and yet struggling, " and
God grant he may prosper !"

On a subsequent occasion Luther remarked : " My father
indeed at length consented to my being a monk, but it was a
reluctant consent ; it was not free and cheerful, and with his
whole soul."

1 " Sein Vater hat ihn vorher allezeit Ihr geheissen, weil er Magister

fewesen; in seiner Antvvort aber auf das Notifications tchveiben, dasz er
lonch geworden, hat er ihn Du geheissen, und ihm alle vaterliche Gunst
und Willen abgesagt." Vide, " Merkw. Lebensumstande Luthers," p. 12.

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

BY B. KURTZ, D. D.

No. III.

(Continued from page 116J

Luther had now reached that period of infirmity, though
not of old age, that makes life a burden. He complained
bitterly of distress in the head, and constant vertigo. " My
head," he wrote in a letter to a friend, " is so weak and so
variable, that I can neither write nor read. I am weary of
life; may God grant me an early and a happy departure. I
am indolent, easily fatigued, my circulations bad, and, in
truth, I am useless. I have finished my course; and it only
remains for me to pray that it may please God to reunite me
to my fathers, and' give back dust to dust, and ashes to ashes.
I am satisfied with life, if what I at present experience, can
be called life. Pray for me, that my last moments may be
resigned to the will of God. The world seems to me like a
decayed house. David and the Prophets are the spars ;
Christ is the main pillar that supporteth it."

In the midst of severe attacks of illness, he received a
pressing letter from Count Albert, urging him to come to
Eisleben.

" You alone, most excellent friend," he wrote, " can de-
cide the difficulties that exist among our unhappy race of
Mansfeldt. The gifts of God' seem only to excite the cu-
pidity of the owners of the copper and silver mines. I have

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 127

relinquished all for the sake of peace, that niy conscience will
admit of; but I owe a degree of justice to my children.
Though opposed on almost every other subject, the Counts
unite in requesting you to come and be the arbitrator, and
promise to be guided by your decision. A higher tribute to
your good judgment and impartial equity could hardly be
given."

Luther determined at once to go; — Catharine, with the ten-
derness of a woman and a wife, opposed it, for it was in the
depth of winter. A few days before he set out, he wrote to
the pastor of Bremen : " I very reasonably hoped, ere this,
to have been removed to my rest by death. As if I had
never managed, or written, or spoken, or done any thing be-
fore, I am quite overwhelmed with writing, and speaking,
and doing, and managing all sorts of things."

On the 23rd of January, 1546, Luther, accompanied by
three of his children, Martin, Paul, and John, left Witten-
berg for Eisleben, his native place. It is soothing to the
feelings of his friends, to remember, that Luther was not a
solitary old man. Hosts of affectionate friends were watch-
ing over his welfare; his Catharine, his long-tried, his affec-
tionate and devoted wife, was breathing her very soul in her
parting embrace, — his daughters hanging on the neck of
their beloved father, — his sons, the stay and support of his
age, clustering round to guard his feeble steps, and guide
him safely on his journey.

When he arrived at Halle, a violent storm arose ; it seem-
ed as if the flood-gates of heaven were opened. The river
swelled to an unusual height, and it became dangerous to
cross, even in a boat. He yielded to the solicitations of his
friends, and remained there three days, preaching in the
meau time for Justus Jonas,, who was the superintendent.

128 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

Knowing how anxious Catharine must be, he sent back one
of his sons to comfort his mother, and his faithful friend,
Justus Jonas, supplied his place, and attended him the re-
mainder of his journey. When he arrived at the borders of
Mansfeldt, the Counts received him with an escort of more
than a hundred horse, and treated him as the Elector of Sax-
ony's ambassador. Luther was impatient at this ostentatious
parade ; but Albert said, " Bear with it yet a little while."

On the evening of his arrival at Eisleben he complained of
slight illness, but afterwards recovered. Instead of going out,
however, the next morning, he remained in the Counts study
and wrote to his wife.

" From Eisleben. To the learned and most wise lady,
Catharine Luther, my gracious spouse :

"Dear Catharine! we are sadly troubled, and I shall not
be sorry to be able to return to our home, but I think we
must remain some days longer. You may say to Philip Mel-
ancthon, that he would do well to correct his notes upon the
Evangelist, for, in writing them, he comprehended but little
why our Saviour calls riches thorns. It is in the school
here, that we may learn the meaning of these words. The
holy Scriptures are full of threalenings against these thorns,
even of everlasting fire : this alarms me, and gives me pa-
tience and perseverance, for I am bound to use all my efforts
to accommodate things rightly, and bring them to a good
end."

Again he wrote in reply to an anxious letter :

" To my gracious lady, Catharine Luther, my dear wife,
who torments herself unnecessarily.

" Grace and peace in our Lord Jesus Christ. Dear Ketha,
thou oughtest to read what St. John says in the catechism,
upon the confidence we ought to have in God. Thou art

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 129

tormenting thyself, as if he were not all-powerful, and could
not produce new Doctor Martins, by the dozen, if the old
one should be drowned in the Saale, or perish in any other
manner. There is one who takes better care of me than
thou, or even the angels of heaven, can do. He sits at the
right hand of his Father, and is all-powerful. Then tran-
quilize thyself. Amen. I had intended to take my de-
parture to-day, but my unfortunate complaint prevents it
Could you have believed, that I should become a legislator ?
It will not end in much. They had better let me remain
a theologian. They must humble their pride; these Counts
speak and act as if they were Gods, but I am afraid
they will become Devils if they go on thus. Lucifer was
cast into darkness for his pride. Show this letter to Philip ;
I have not time to write to him separately."

Again he wrote :

" To my dear and beloved wife, Catharine Von Bora.

" Grace and peace in the Lord, dear Catharine. We
hope to return home this week, God willing. He hath ap-
peared in this matter. The Counts have come to an accom-
modation on every subject, I am sorry to add, with two or
three exceptions, which prevents an entire reconciliation;
but I shall dine with them to-day, and do my utmost to make
them united as brothers. Our young people are full of gay-
ety ; they ride out in sleighs, with their ladies, and load their
horses with bells. God has heard our prayers. I send the
same gifts which the Countess Albert has presented me ; —
this dear lady is most happy to see peace once more re-
stored to the family. I commend thee to the protection of
God.

" Martin Luther."

130 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

On the 17th of February he had become so unwell, that
his friends advised him to discontinue all attention to busi-
ness, and just be intent upon his own comfort. To which,,
as though he had a presentiment of the approach of death,,
he replied : " I was bom and baptized here in Eisleben ;
what if I should die here ?" In the evening he repaired, as
usual, to the large dining room, and took supper in company
with his friends. His conversation turned chiefly on death
and eternal things. "God," said he, " gathers for himself a
church ; a large proportion of it is composed of children ;
when one dies, a thousand or two thousand other children
die with it. But when I, now three and sixty years of age,
go hence, perhaps not one hundred, not even sixty of like
age, will go with me ; — the people of the present generation
don't live long." Before the company rose from the table,
he was pressed to give his opinion on the question, whether
the pious would know each other in the eternal world?
"How," he remarked, "was it with Adam? he knew Eve
though he had not before seen her. When he awoke from
sleep he did not ask : Whence comest thou ? who art thou ?
but said : " this is flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone."
Much more shall we, in a state of heavenly perfection, know
those with whom we had been acquainted on earth. Yes,
inasmuch as by faith we become the children of God and
are made like unto the Lord Jesus, we shall know all the
pious since the beginning of time. Mary Magdalene knew
the Lord by his voice •, 4he disciples recognized Moses and
Elias in their glorified state on Mount Tabor, and the pious
at Jerusalem knew the saints who rose with Christ from
their graves ; — why then should not the righteous know each
other in the resurrection?" "I also hold," he continued,,
" that as the rich man when in torment, knew Abraham and

a

o

s

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OP LUTHER; 131

Lazarus, the wicked also will recognize each other; and to
their great anguish will behold the blessed in heaven whom
here on earth they oppressed and persecuted."

Having made this remark, he left the table, and as usual,
repaired to a favorite window in his room, to attend to his
private devotions. His prayer, on this occasion, being over-
heard, has been preserved; it was as follows: "Lord God,
my heavenly Father ; I call upon thee in the name of thy
beloved Son, my Lord Jesus Christ, whom by thy grace, I
have confessed before the world and preached unto the peo-
ple. Thou wilt hear me in conformity to thy promise, and
for the sake of thine honor. Thou hast revealed to me ac-
cording to thy great mercy, the dreadful apostacy, blindness
and darkness of popery, prior to the great day which is soon
to follow upon the approaching light of the gospel. I
beseech thee to save the church of my father-land from
lapsing from the truth ; graciously preserve it steadfast in
the profession and belief of the truth,, and let the whole
world be led to the knowledge of the ct"gospel." Having
finished his devotions, he began to complain to his two
younger sons, Martin and Paul, and to John Aurifaber, that
he felt an oppression at the breast, an affection to which he
was subject ; whereupon John hastened to the countess and
brought some medicine^ and also called D. Jonas and M.
Colius. At their arrival his disease had become still more
distressing. They then rubbed him with warm cloths, his
usual remedy when thus afflicted, which afforded relief.
Count Albrecht coming in and inquiring how he felt? he re-
plied : " No danger, my gracious Sir, I feel better." The
count then withdrew, leaving him in the care of one of his
counsellors, Conrad Von Wolfframsdorf, D. Jonas, M. Col-
ius, J. Homberger, John and his servant, Ambrosius. . About

132 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

9 o'clock he lay down on a couch, observing, if I could
get a half hour's sleep I think it would be of service to me.
He soon fell into a gentle slumber and did not awake until

10 o'clock. Perceiving his friends and servant and his two
children in the room, he observed : " Are you all here yet ;
why don't you retire ?" — No dear Doctor, rejoined his friend
Jonas ; it is meet that we should now watch and attend on
you. He then rose, left his couch and went into his cham-
ber, adjoining the room occupied, and in going, said in Latin :
" In God's name, I will go to bed." " Into thine hand I
commit my spirit ; thou has redeemed me, O Lord God of
truth."1

His bed was warmed for him, and when he lay down he
gave his hand to each, bidding them all good night, and add-
ed: "D. Jonas and M. Colius, and the rest of you, pray that
the cause of our Lord Jesus Christ may prosper; the Coun-
cil of Trent, and the pope are waging war against his gos-
pel." D. Jonas, his two sons, Ambrosius and other servants
remained in his chamber. He slept until one o'clock, when,
after ordering the fire to be made, he complained of very se-
vere pain in his breast. " Dear Jonas," said he, " I per-
ceive that I shall remain here in Eisleben, where I was born
and baptized." Reverende Pater ! replied Jonas and Am-
brosius, God our heavenly Father, will send deliverance
through Jesus Christ whom you have preached. They then
helped him out of bed, and he passed from his chamber into
the adjoining room without aid. saying as he went : " Into
thine hand I commit my spirit ; thou hast redeemed me, O
Lord God of truth." After perambulating the room two or
three times, he again lay down, saying: " The oppression at
my breast is exceedingly distressing." They again, at his

>Ps. li. 5.

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 133

request, rubbed him with warm linen cloths, and warmed his
pillows, as this afforded him ease. John Albrecht, the town
secretary and his wife, and two physicians residing contigu-
ously, M. Wild and D. Ludewigen, were sent for; — Count
Albrecht and his lady also came, bringing with them, various
remedies for his disease. " Good Lord," said he, " my dis-
ease increases, my agony is excruciating ; I feel the approach
of death ; I shall never leave Eisleben a living man." Jonas
and Colius endeavored to comfort him, saying : Reverende
Pater! call upon the Lord Jesus Christ, our great High-
priest, the only Mediator. You are now in a profuse perspir-
ation, and perhaps God will graciously restore you. " Yes,"
he rejoined, "I perspire, but it is a cold death-sweat; my
illness grows worse ; I shall soon yield up my spirit." " O
my heavenly Father," he continued, " God and Father of
our Lord Jesus Christ; thou God of all consolation. I bless
thee that thou hast revealed thy dear Son, Jesus Christ
to me, in whom I believe, whom I have confessed and
published to the world, whom I have loved and tried to
serve, and whom the wicked pope and the ungodly dis-
honor, persecute and blaspheme. I beseech thee, my Lord
Jesus Christ, take charge of my poor soul. O heavenly
Father, though Ilay down this frail body and pass away
from this world, yet I know most assuredly, that I shall be
with thee eternally, and out of thy hands shall no one be able
to pluck me." After a short pause, he added : " For God
so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever-
lasting life." l Another pause ensued, and again he added:
" He that is our God is the God of salvation; and unto God
the Lord belong the issues from death."2 The physician at-

'John iii. 16. 2Ps. lxviii. 20.

134 PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER.

tempted to administer medicine, but he said : " I shall go
the way of all flesh, I surrender my spirit to him who gave
it;" and then rapidly repeated three times in Latin: "Father,
into thy hand I commit my spirit \ thou hast redeemed me,

0 Lord God of truth."

Having thus resigned himself to the care of his God, he
remained tranquil. They rubbed him, called him and tried
to rouse him, but his eyes were closed and he made no res-
ponse. Count Albrecht then applied stimulants to his wrists
which Luther had often used with good effect, and which his
wife had sent for the purpose. But it was of no avail.
"While in this lethargy, D. Jonas and M. Colius addressed
him in a loud voice : Reverende Pater ! are you departing
this life in faith in Jesus Christ, holding steadfastly to that
view of his doctrines which you have proclaimed to the
world? to which he firmly and distinctly replied: "Yes!"
He then turned on his right side, and fell asleep. In about
fifteen minutes a candle was held to his face, and it was per-
ceived that he was very pale, his extremities had grown
cold ; and after a few more deep but gentle respirations, he
calmly fell asleep in Jesus, without moving a finger or a
muscle, and apparently without the slightest pain of body or
mind. Thus departed this great and good man, on the 1 8th
of February, 1546, between two and three o'clock in the
morning. In his death he exemplified his own comment on
John viii. 51 ; Verily, verily I say unto you. If a man keep
my saying, he shall never see death. " Death," says he, in
his notes on this passage, " is our common lot ; but he who
holds to God's word, believing and obeying it, will never
feel death, but depart as in a sleep. It shall not be said of
him : morior, sed cogor dormire ; that is : he shall not say :

1 die, but simply, I fall asleep."

PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF LUTHER. 135

Seven years after the death of her husband, the plague
broke out in Wittenberg; and Catharine deemed it prudent
to remove to Torgau, with her children. "It is only for
their sake," said she, to a friend, " that I quit a place where
I could be serviceable in nursing the sick ; but I feel that I
am in this way fulfilling the wishes of my husband." This
conviction, that pressed strongly on her mind, induced her to
hasten her departure from the scene of pestilence. On a
bright sunny morning she left her residence, to escape dan-
gers which threatened, and little aware of those that awaited
her. In descending a hill, the horses took fright, and Cath-
arine was thrown from the carriage, and so much injured,
that she died three months, after, at the age of fifty-two ; still
retaining remains of the beauty which has been ascribed to
her. The gold medal she always wore, attached to her
neck by a riband, may be seen with the ring of Luther. On
it, with other inscriptions, is this, " D. Mart. Luter Cater-
inae suae dono. D. H. F. Quae nata est anno 1499, 29 Jan-
uarii."1

1 We acknowledge our indebtedness for several of the passages in the
above article, to the work entitled : " Luther and his times."

THE THESES OF LUTHER.

BY JOHN G. MORRIS, D. D.

On Friday the 31st of October, 1517, about five o'clock
in the afternoon, a considerable crowd of persons might have
been seen in the public square of the city of Wittenberg-,
just in front of the castle church. A student was nailing up
against the door a long roll of paper, under the direction of
a professor of the university. At first the passers by regard-
ed it as a mere programme of the professor's course of lec-
tures for the ensuing term. But the church door was an un-
usual place for posting such advertissments and besides, the
enormous size of the paper, of which there were several
distinct sheets, was something remarkable. After several
sheets had been securely fastened, the professor retired to-
wards the middle of the square, and there meeting a fellow-
professor, eagerly caught him by the hand, and directed his
attention to the door, at the same time informing him in a
few hurried words, of the nature of the publication. The
old man, for such he was, clasped his hands in alarm, and
yet there was a secret satisfaction plainly depicted on his
countenance. Almost at the same time two or three monks
passed by and their attention was arrested by this strange
advertisement. The student had not yet finished nailing the
sheets, and as soon as the monks had read a few sentences,
they rudely snatched the others from his hands, and would
have torn them to pieces, if at the same moment several stu-

^

3
£>

THESES OF LUTHER. 139

dents had not stepped up and abruptly caught their arms and
thus prevented them from destroying the paper. This was
observed by other persons in the square, who soon gathered
round and in an incredibly short space of time, a large num-
ber had assembled. The crowd insisted on the student read-
ing it, which he did in an elevated voice so that all could
hear. " Execrable heretic !" — " horrible blasphemy !" " tear
down the others," — "silence!" — "read louder," — "monks,
be still !!" " That's God's truth," were some of the discor-
dant sentiments vehemently uttered by the bystanders. The
student read on and ended the sheet he held in his hand, —
then he turned to those on the door and before he had finish-
ed, people came nocking from every direction. The report
had spread abroad that something extraordinary had hap-
pened in the public square, and soon artizans, citizens,
monks, students and men and women of all classes had con-
gregated together. Some of the monks raved, — the students
hurraed, — the artizans were stupid with amazement, — others
clenched their teeth with rage, and the women prayed Jive
JWaria! There was terrible confusion in that crowd. The
name of the professor was blasphemously denounced, to
which the students replied, "Long live our fearless profes-
sor !" Even some of the common people took sides with
the professor and others manifested a stolid indifference.
One asked his neighbor, "Well, Hans, what is all this
about?" "Why, Caspar, it's something about Christ and
repentance, and religion, but we common people, you know,
leave all such things to the priests, — come let's go and take
our schnaps, and leave religion alone ; it's time enough when
we are going to die, and then for five kreutzers we can get
absolution."
9

HO THESES OF LUTHER.

At this moment, a school in the vicinity was dismissed and
the scholars observing the crowd, rushed tumultuously to-
wards it. A tall lad of sixteen, capable of overlooking the
heads of his fellow students, stood at the distance of several
yards and commenced reading to himself, in a low tone.
"When he observed numerous others who had just arrived
pressing near him that they might hear more distinctly, he
elevated his voice and read all the papers through. It re-
quired ten minutes time and during the perusal, there were
various exhibitions of feeling in the new audience that had
assembled. Some tried to raise a commotion for the purpose
of drowning the voice of the reader ; others in endeavoring
to suppress it, created still greater disturbance. Some cried
out " heresy," and stopped their ears, whilst others clapped
their hands in applause. The scholars reported the circum-
stance to their parents at home, and before night multitudes
had been to the church and heard the paper read. Very
soon, the whole city was in commotion ; it was the subject
of earnest conversation in every society. Heavy curses
were brought down on the head of the presumptuous author
by some, whilst many others endeavored to frame apologies
for his conduct, without daring publicly to justify him. Not
a few openly espoused his cause and warmly defended not
only the proceeding, but the truth of the propositions he had
thus published.

What did these papers thus nailed to the church door, set
forth, which created such a commotion in Wittenberg?
Nothing more than certain propositions or theses of Luther
against the abominable indulgences which were sold in his
times.

A splendid carriage, escorted by three outriders, might
have been seen passing rapidly from place to place. When

THESES OF LUTHER. 141

it arrived at a town, one of the horsemen was despatched
by the individual in the carriage to the magistrate with the
announcement, " The grace of God and of the Holy Father
is at your gates." It was immediately heralded in the streets.
All left their business — the schools were dismissed — the
whole population gathered in the market place with lighted
tapers in their hands — a procession was formed and they
went forth to meet and welcome this trader in the salvation
of souls ! They then, with music, banners, incense and
prayers proceeded to the church. There the market was
opened and indulgences were sold.

The most distinguished merchant in this nefarious traffic,
was John Tetzel, a Dominican monk, of infamous character
and diabolical effrontery. He was the most impudent and
the most successful vender of this merchandize, that ever
was employed. He ascended the pulpit and extolled the
efficacy of his wares in language like the following.

"Indulgences are the most precious and sublime of God's
gifts."

" This cross" — (pointing to a red cross which he carried
with him) — " has as much efficacy as the cross of Jesus
Christ."

" Draw near and I will give you letters, duly sealed, by
which even the sins you shall hereafter desire to commit
shall be all forgiven you."

" I would not exchange my privileges for those of Saint
Peter in heaven, for I have saved more souls with my indul-
gences than he did with his sermons."

" There is no sin so great that the indulgence cannot re-
mit it, and even if any one (which is doubtless impossible)
ravish the Holy Virgin Mother of God, — let him only pay
largely and it shall be forgiven him."

142 THESES OF LUTHER.

" Even repentance is not indispensable."

"But more than all this; indulgences save not the living
alone, they also save the dead."

" Ye priests, ye nobles, ye tradesmen, ye wives, ye maid-
ens, ye young men, hearken to your departed parents and
friends, who cry to you from the bottomless abyss: "We
are enduring horrible torment ! a small alms would deliver
us ; — you can give it, and you will not."

" The very moment that the money clinks against the bot-
tom of the chest, the soul escapes from purgatory, and flies
free to heaven."

" O senseless people and almost like to beasts, who do not
comprehend the grace so richly offered ! This day heaven
is on all sides open. Do you now refuse to enter? When
then do you intend to come in ? This day you may redeem
your souls. Dull and heedless man, with ten groschen you
can deliver your father from purgatory, and you are so un-
grateful that you will not rescue him. In the day of judg-
ment, my conscience will be clear; but you will be punished
the more severely for neglecting so great a salvation. I pro-
test, that though you should have but one coat, you ought to
strip it off and sell it to purchase this grace. Our Lord God
no longer deals with us as God. He has given all power to
the pope."

" Do you know why our most Holy Lord distributes so
rich a grace? The dilapidated church of St. Peter and St.
Paul is to be restored, so as to be unparaleled in the whole
earth. That church contains the bodies of the holy apostles,
Peter and Paul and a vast company of martyrs. Those sa-
cred bodies, owing to the present condition of the edifice,
are now, alas! continually trodden, flooded, polluted, dis-
honored and rotting in rain and hail. Ah ! shall these holy

THESES OF LUTHER. 143

ashes be suffered to remain degraded in the mire ? Bring
your money ! bring money ! bring money !" He uttered this
cry with such dreadful bellowing, observes Luther, " that
one might have thought some wild bull was rushing among
the people and goring them with his horns."

These indulgences were bought by the poorest of the
populace, but the price was graduated according to the pre-
sumed ability of the purchaser to pay. The state of morals
may be easily conceived. People confessed their sins to the
priests, but did not abandon them, for their indulgences
licensed them to commit sin. Some confessed to Luther,
who rebuked them for their irregularities, but he was
amazed to hear them say that they intended to continue in
the practice of the same iniquities. He refused them abso-
lution. They then showed their indulgences, which allowed
theui to do what they pleased. He inveighed severely
against them and their papers and warned them against put-
ting any confidence in these wretched licenses.

Some of them went and complained to Tetzel that an
Augustinian monk would pay no regard to his letters, and
this roused the ire of the blasphemous vender. He raved
like a madman from the pulpit and threatened death and
damnation to all who would dare to oppose him. By his or-
der, a fire was kindled several times in the public square,
declaring that he had authority from the pope to burn any
who would treat his indulgences with contempt.

Luther's soul was fired. Such monstrous abuses dared not
go unrebuked. From the pulpit he warned his hearers
against indulgences. M No man can shew from the scriptures
that Goers justice requires a penalty or satisfaction from the
sinner," said he. " The only duty it imposes on him is a true
repentance, a sincere change of heart, a resolution to bear

144 THESES OF LUTHER.

the cross of Christ and to strive to do good works. It is a
great error to seek ourselves to satisfy God's justice for our
sins, for God ever pardons them freely by his inestimable
grace.

" The christian church, it is true, requires somewhat from
the sinner, but what she requires she may remit. But that is
all. And furthermore, these indulgences of the church are
only tolerated out of regard for slothful and imperfect chris-
tians, who will not employ themselves zealously in good
works, for they excite no one to sanctification, but leave
every one in lowness and imperfection."

It would be much better to contribute to the building of
St. Peter's from love to God, than to buy indulgences for
such a purpose. But say you shall we then not buy them ?
I have already said as much, and I repeat it; my advice is
that none should buy them. Leave them for drowsy chris-
tians, but do you keep yourselves separate from such. Let
the faithful be turned from indulgences, and exhorted to the
works they neglect."

This language created great commotion, but the traffic in
indulgences still continued. Luther could submit no longer,
and he pursued a measure which was as bold in its design,
as it was glorious in its results.

The 31st of October, 1517, was All Saint's Day. On
that day crowds of persons from all the surrounding country
flocked to Wittenberg to see the precious relics which the
Elector had gathered. Luther nailed to the door of the
church, ninety-five propositions against the doctrine of in-
dulgences, the circumstances of which have been related in
the beginning of this article. These propositions enclosed
the germ of the Reformation. The true doctrine was now
for the first time publicly enforced.

THESES OF LUTHER. 145

No one dared to discuss these propositions with Luther.
They were not heard alone in Wittenberg, but they flew
in all directions as on the wings of the wind. In less than a
month, they were known at Rome. Myconius, a historian,
who lived at that time, says : " In the space of a fortnight,
they had spread over Germany, and within a month they had
run through all Christendom, as if angels themselves had been
the bearers of them to all men. It is difficult to conceive
the stir they occasioned. " They were translated into
several other languages almost immediately, aud a traveller
carried them for sale as far as Jerusalem."

" Every one," said Luther, " was complaining of the in-
dulgences, and as all the bishops and doctors had kept
silence, and no one was inclined to take the bull by the
horns, poor Luther became a famous doctor ; because, at
last, said they, one doctor was found who dared grapple with
him. But I did not like this glory, and I thought the song in
too high a key for my voice."

From this time forth, the work of reformation went vigor-
ously on, and the world knows the happy results.

tn

THE WALDENSES.

BY REV. S. P. HILL.

On Horeb's height, when lone Elijah pour'd
His soul in sad complaint, before the Lord;
When guilty Israel had the prophets slain
And he, the last, was still pursued to pain ; —
While in the mountain cave, he sought to find
A soothing shelter for his troubled mind,
Jehovah called him forth, and bade him go
Where power Divine should in his presence flow ;—
Not in the wind, that rocks and mountains rent,
Howe'er sublime, that mighty element ; —
Nor in the earthquake, nor the burning fire
Though nature shudder'd at the potents dire ;•>—
But in the still small voice, the awful word
Deeply within the prophet's soul was heard ;—
And while his mantle hid his blushing face,
It told that thousands still, — the heirs of grace
Though doom'd by power's imperious decree,—
To Baal's image had not bow'd the knee ;
But now in lone recesses pour'd their prayer
The hidden objects of Almighty care.
So, when the shades of papal gloom enclosed
The christian church, and error's reign imposed
Like dangerous mists, that morning light obscure,—
Though in itself, most beautiful and pure ; —
Some scattered rays, were seen to pierce the gloom
And part, at least, of the world's waste illume ;

THE WALDENSES. 147

In lonely glens, in nature's rude recess, —
Amidst the drear and distant wilderness, —
Along the confines of the Alpine vales
Tho' struggling with the storm, light still prevails.

There while the dragon led his legions on,
The remnant armies of Jehovah shone
In truth's bright armor clad, undaunted, bold,
God's witnesses within their ancient fold ;
And tho' each instrument of torturing might,
Was used to quench their sin-reproving light,
Those holy men, those meek confessors bore
Their truth-lit torch more boldly than before ;—
Nor all the forms that malice could devise,
Could bring to earth, their heaven-directed eyes.
And demon-hate, that had the widest scope
Could not extinguish their immortal hope ;
Tho' worn and crush'd beneath its hellish power,
They kept their faith amid the darkest hour,
Till by their word and by their Saviour's blood,
In victor's robes, before his throne they stood.

Hail ! noble army of the martyr'd dead !
Who for the truth of God, so bravely bled,
Whose blameless lives, and doctrines, both accord
To prove the love, ye cherished to the Lord ;
How did his gentleness invest with power
Your happy souls, mid torture's trying hour ;
While zeal for truth, more fervent e'en in death
Was the last watchword of your parting breath.

They sleep, that martyr'd million of the just,
But truth arises from their sacred dust,
And in their glorious pathway to the skies
Lingers a radiant light, that never dies ;

148 THE WALDENSES.

Still tho' their names may curl the lip of scorn,
Those names, in love, shall life's fair page, adorn ;
And while the weeping eye their history reads,
Their simple virtues, and heroic deeds-
Faith led by them to rise to holier spheres
Shall far transcend the swiftest flight of years ;—
And on God's bosom, taught to seek repose,
Shall lose the memory of life's latest woes.

u

ja

THE AMBUSCADE.

BY REV. H. I. SMITH.
I.

The night-wind was sweeping with fitful moan,

Through the gloomy fir, and the waving pine,

In Thuringia's forest so dark and lone ;

And the pale moon, all too feeble to shine

Through the billowy scud that swept o'er the sky,

Wrapp'd the mighty grove in a spectral haze ;

And forms all mysterious perplexed the eye

Of the wand'rer who strayed through that darksome maze.

II.

A chariot is threading the wearisome way :
'Tis the bold Augustinian, bound for his home ;
He has kept all the great of the realm at bay,
And defied the fierce anger of infidel Rome ;
And now he discourses, with rapturous tongue,
Of the power of faith, and the wonders of grace,
Of that Providence which, as the Psalmist has sung,
Doth the righteous lead safe to the end of his race.

III.

On his lips his companions hang with delight,

When one sudden starts with a terrified glance ;

" Say, mark ye not there, through the gloom of the night,

A form, 'tis a horseman with plume and with lance

152 THE AMBUSCADE.

And hark! There behind you, the snort of a steed,
And the champing of bits, and the sword's heavy clank;
Hark, hark! they come on, like the rush of the wind,
They come on, at full speed, before and behind."

IV.

And on, like a whirlwind, the horsemen sped,

Three riders before, and two riders behind.

In dismay the bold Luther'sown brother fled,

In the glens of the forest his safety to find.

But lo ! now on charger all barbed, each knight

Dashes straight to the chariot, which quick they surround ;

One seizes the steeds that quake with affright,

Another the charioteer hurls to the ground.

V.

And now they encompass, in threat'ning array,
The chariot that holds the great champion of truth,
Whom Kaiser and pope are both longing to slay,
For whom Rome's superstition is whetting its tooth.
He asks not if they come as foes, or as friends,
His trust is in God, and his soul knows no fear ;
To the Father his life and his cause he commends,
And clings to His hand by the vigor of pray'r.

VI.

But lo ! now the knight with the dark-waving plume

Dismounts, and with rev'rence, announces his hest:

" We're sent here to save thee, and I am thy groom,

To convey thee from dangers to safety and rest :

Thine enemies, father, are many and strong,

Where their fangs may not reach thee, 'tis needful to hide :

So up, then, good father, to horse, and along,

For far is our way ; we must ride, we must ride !"

_-

THE AMBUSCADE. 153

VII.

And now the proud charger, with war-trappings hung,

That soldier of heaven is fain to bestride ;

"With helmet and crest, and with cloak round him flung,

Behold him prepared with the swiftest to ride.

With a knight at each bridle-rein safely he sits ;

Two bring up the rear, the black plume leads the way;

Their steeds, all-impatient, are champing their bits ;

The signal is given: " spur on, and away !"

VIII.

And long the dark maze of the forest they trace,

And hither and thither still faster they ride :

In windings, 'mid darkness, they speed on apace,

While the tramps of their chargers resound far and wide :

But now on a draw-bridge their iron hoofs ring,

Gray turrets and battlements frown all around,

The portcullis rises, the heavy gates swing :

On the Wartburg brave Luther a shelter has found.

IV.

And here, while Germania mourns him as dead,
"While the friends of the gospel despondingly weep,
The champion, who boldly, but wisely, had led
The weak and the timid the way they should keep,
That champion still lives, still labors and prays,
And his work shall out-live all the vain works of earth,
For it shows the unlearned, the gospel's blest ways,
And sheds its bright light round the lowliest hearth.

LUTHER AND MELANCTHON.

BY C. P. KRAUTH, D. D.

President of Pennsylvania College.

No historical fact is more indisputable than that the chris-
tian religion had been greatly perverted before the era of the
reformation. It had assumed aspects entirely unlike its real
character, and become an instrument of ungodliness and im-
purity, and not of righteousness and peace. It needed re-
form. This was not denied by all, who were determined to
adhere to it, substantially, in the form in which it had been
developed. Various efforts had been made, unsuccessful it
is true, to regenerate it. Under the auspices of Wickliffe,
Huss and others — the emancipation of the fettered faith had
been attempted, but the bonds were but partially broken and
the ligatures were speedily fastened anew. When we com-
pare the church of the fifteenth and beginning of the six-
teenth centuries with the apostolic and primitive — how un-
like in its hierarchy — its institutions, its doctrines, and its
usages, to that church, when inspired men, and those on
whom their mantle fell, shed on it the influence of unadulter-
ated truth, administered its affairs with unostentatious sim-
plicity, and walked before it, shining with virtues like to
them which adorned the divine Founder of our faith. The
gates of hell had not, it is true, prevailed against it, — though
a superficial observer might have inferred that it no longer
existed as a veritable church of Christ. In every age, in
the very worst described on the page of ecclesiastical his-
tory, pure, unadulterated Christianity — the religion of the

geb : denl6 tenFeto .149 7.
^est :deni9 tenApr i!15 GO .

LUTHER AND MELANCTHON. 155

heart, an outcast from the multitude, the scorn of the high
and powerful, found an asylum and a welcome in the bosoms
of a few, despised by their cotemporaries, persecuted, often
murdered in the most cruel manner, admired in the recollec-
tions of a more holy posterity. Never, no — never, whilst
that cause shall triumph, whose victories will be perpetuated
till the end of time, will such men as Waldo, Wickliffe,
Huss and Jerome of Prague be forgotten. Above their co-
temporaries they will be esteemed. They will be honored
as the illustrious of their day. They will shine as stars in
the moral firmament.

It would appear probable to the intelligent christian — the
firm believer in a moral government of the universe by a being
of unlimited resources, that such a state of corruption and
falsehood as the church presented before the reformation
could not long continue. The rights, the inalienable rights
of man were too glaringly perverted, the sanctity of the ark
of God was too grossly polluted, the touch of its keepers
was too contaminating, to admit of the belief that man
would not arise to vindicate his birthright and God interpose
to uphold his own cause.

"Whatever may be our a priori conclusions, however we
may reason from the nature and design of our holy religion,
the tendencies of human nature, or the Providence of God,
it is certain, it is history, the best authenticated history, that
the spell was broken, the prey taken from the mighty and
the church redeemed, not as it was once, by the precious
bloodshedding of Jesus of Nazareth, but by the power of
truth, wielded by man, but directed and rendered efficacious
by God. Who were the men furnished with the intelligence
to conceive and the moral courage to undertake a work,
throughout exhibiting most resplendent specimens of the

156 LUTHER AND MELANCTHON.

highest moral sublime ? Who were they who counting not
their life dear, who looking at the most appalling difficul-
ties— said none of these things move us neither count we our
life dear, that we may finish this work? There were
many — but amongst them all shine forth with superior lus-
tre the distinguished German Reformers Luther and Melanc-
thon.

The friend of Christianity, as he hears their names, and
recollects what they have done for Zion and for man may
well call them blessed — and ask for blessings on their coun-
try and the places of their birth, and the days on which
their earthly career began.

They have often been portrayed by the pencil of biogra-
phy, their characters and achievements have been made to
resound through the earth — often have been rehearsed the
things that they saw and the scenes in which they bore a
most conspicuous part. The world will not become weary
of gazing at their portraits. Their career will never cease
to furnish instruction to mem

Luther was born in the year 1483. The place of his
birth is Eisleben in Saxony. His father an honest and res-
pected miner of Mansfield, did not neglect the education of
his son. He attended the schools of Magdeburg and Eisen-
ach. At the age of twenty — he took the degree of A. M.
at Erfurt. We are informed that it was his intention origi-
nally to study the civil law. His purposes were changed, it
has been generally believed, by the following circumstance.
Walking one day in the fields with one of his most intimate
companions, this dear friend was suddenly transferred to
eternity by a stroke of lightning. The impression on his
mind was deep and he was induced to abandon his juristic
predilections and to enter the monastery at Erfurt. This

LUTHER AND MELANCTHON. 157

took place in the year 1505. He became an Augustinian
Eremite. His deportment gave the highest satisfaction to
his superior. He was sent in 1508, by John Von Staupitz,
his vicar general, from Erfurt to Wittenberg to fill the chair
of professor of philosophy. This appointment was not in
accordance with his own desires. He began to direct his
attention to biblical investigations and as might have been
expected, he discovered that the prevailing system of re-
ligion conflicted glaringly with the oracles of God. Bowed
down by scholasticism and human authority — he rose up
from beneath them. His views were much enlarged by a
visit to Rome in 1510. This visit was on business for his
order. In 1512, he became a doctor of divinity and devot-
ed himself to the study of the original languages of Revela-
tion, the Hebrew and the Greek. In this way was he becom-
ing prepared for the work in which he was to be employed
by the great head of the church, and from which he was to
gather so lasting a renown. His qualifications were neither
few nor slight. He was eminently fitted both physically and
mentally for the great work. His body and mind — his tem-
perament and training all prepared him to go forth a cham-
pion for truth against the hosts of its enemies. We are in-
formed that he was not " inexpert in philosophy and he un-
derstood the Bible better than any other teacher in the
Catholic church ; he had critically read the writings of the
fathers and had studied among the modern writers, especially
William Occam and John Gerson, together with the mystics
of the two preceding centuries and particularly John Tau-
ler; and from the two former (Occam and Gerson,) he
learned to view the papal authority, differently from the
mass of the people, and from the latter (the mystics) he
learned many practical truths relating to the religion of the
10

158 LUTHER AND MELANCTHON.

heart, which were not to be found in the ordinary books of
devotion and piety. Of church history, he had so much
knowledge as was necessary for combatting; the prevailing
errors and for restoring the primitive religion of christians.
In the Belles Lettres also, he was not a novice. He wrote
the German language with greater purity and elegance and
force than any other author of that age, and his translation
of the Bible and his hymns still exhibit proof, how correct-
ly, nervously and clearly he could express himself in his na-
tive tongue. He possessed a natural, strong and moving elo-
quence."

These are some of the endowments of the man — the most
remarkable man, the choice of God — designated by him to
lead on the sacramental host — and to effect one of the most
wonderful revolutions recorded in the chronicles of human-
ity— the results of which, so mighty and grand — blaze on the
vision in both hemispheres — in the church of God, and in
the civil constitutions of emancipated nations.

Philip Melancthon was the friend and the most efficient
coadjutor of the Saxon reformer. He was a man who for
profundity of learning, depth of piety, and amiability of
character had but few who could be compared with him in
that day, and whose character whenever contemplated as it
is presented on the page of biography, exhibits a lovely spe-
cimen of the temper of the blessed Redeemer. His original
name was Schwarzerde, which in the language of his coun-
try means blackearth. To the church and the world, he is
better known by the name Melancthon. This name is a
compound of two Greek words which express the same
idea, as the terms of his original name. He was born at
Bretten in the lower Palatinat, 1497. He studied at Heidel-
berg. He was teacher of polite literature at Tubingen. He

LUTHER AND MELANCTIION. 159

was invited by Luther and Reuchlin to become professor of
Greek at Wittenberg, in the year 1518. In 1521, he com-
posed his celebrated Loci communes rerum theologicarum.
This production passed through sixty editions in his life time.
He composed that well known and justly celebrated symbol
of the Lutheran church — the Augsburg confession. He is
the author of the far-famed apology for it. He was present
at the disputation between Luther and Eckius. At that time
he was not an adherent of either. That discussion exerted
probably much influence on his mind not without a predispo-
sition to embrace the truth. He died triumphantly in the
year 1560.

In attempting an estimate of the moral and intellectual
works of these men, we are led to consider their original
powers. They were unquestionably distinguished by God
with pre-eminent abilities. Their talents were of a high
order. They were capable of excelling in any thing to
which they applied themselves. Their whole life furnishes
striking proofs of the extent of their capacity and their
writings which have been committed to us as a precious
treasure — shew how great they were in intellectual endow-
ments. Amongst the many with whom they were placed in
contact and with whom they were compelled to enter the
arena of intellectual warfare — they found none who trans-
cended them in those powers, the gift of God, by which one
man is elevated above another. Judgment, imagination —
memory — those master faculties of the human soul were
theirs — to be exerted at the call of duty in the advancement
of human weal. The talents entrusted to them were not
wrapped up in a napkin or buried in the earth. They were
assiduously improved. They mastered the learning of the
age. They went beyond — far beyond its average. They

160 LUTHER AND MELANCTIION.

felt and saw the errors which had settled on the intellect of
man. Before the dawn of the Baconian philosophy, they
recognized the errors of scholasticism and applied induction
to the investigation of revelation, and thus upturned and
overturned a mighty system of error, and with gigantic
efforts substituted for it the beautiful fabric of an uncontami-
nated faith. The translator into his vernacular idiom of the
inspired communications of God — laboring single handed in
this herculean task — with the vast cares of the great revo-
lution he had commenced weighing heavily on his spirit,
who whilst he transfers from the idioms of the East and the
West the conceptions of the divinity into his own unculti-
vated language gives fixedness and form and development to
that very language, this man must have been learned and
more than learned — genius must have acknowledged him as
her favored child.

The elegant and profound scholarship of Luther's friend
and coadjutor, Philip, is well known. His boyhood was
distinguished by proofs of uncommon attainments, and his
riper years consummated a training and accumulated stores
of intellectual wealth, which enabled him to enrich his coun-
try. It prepared him to be, as he was styled, " the Precep-
tor of Germany." Luther wrote to Spalatine, says Dr. Coxe,
soon after his entrance as Professor into the University of
Wittenberg, " he is a mere boy and a stripling in age, but a
great man and master, if you reflect on the variety of his
knowledge which extends almost to every book. He is dis-
guished not only for his acquaintance, but for his critical
knowledge of both languages, viz. Greek and Latin, nor is
he unskilled in Hebrew learning.

The testimony of that great scholar, Erasmus, is no less
decisive. The numerous writings of these champions of a

LUTHER AND MELANCTHON. 161

pure faith, by which, after they had been gathered to that
rest which remained for them, they uttered truth to men, and
continue to delight and instruct, evince their untiring indus-
try, and their energetic minds. Luther had at his command
a most overwhelming eloquence which he could adapt to the
capacities of crowned heads and scholars, or the more re-
stricted capacities of untutored citizens. In the language of
his country, in the classic language of Rome, he swayed at
his will the minds of men. The fire of Demosthenes, and
the enthusiasm of Paul, displayed themselves in his appeals
to the judgment and passions of men. It was with the pen
— by means of lectures prepared with intense study, and de-
livered to immense crowds from every part of Germany —
that Melancthon displayed his knowledge and became the
source of illumination to his father-land, and most justly en-
titled to the high appellation which has been assigned him.

What has been said concerning them constitutes not the
brightest gem in their crown. Genius and learning do not
alone constitute the highest style of man. When genius gro-
vels on the earth, when it receives its inspiration from crea-
ted objects, its glory is tarnished and we refuse it our highest
admiration. It must recognize its origin and be consecrated
to the glory of him from whom it came, or we turn away
from it with mournful emotions. Luther and Melancthon
were christians. They had studied and understood the reli-
gion of Christ. The experience of it wras in their hearts.
They walked by faith. They felt that they wrere strangers
and pilgrims on the earth, and looked for a city which has
foundations, whose builder and maker is God. Their whole
career would be full of mystery, it would present an inexpli-
cable enigma, if we did not know that the love of Christ
constrained them. This is the key to their whole life. It

162 LUTHER AND MELANCTIION.

explains what they did and what they suffered. For they
were sufferers for conscience sake. They endured bitter
persecution. Many sorrows were appointed them. They
endured because they had an eye by which they could see
him — who invisible to the eye of the body, has promised
that his grace shall be sufficient for us. We are astonished
when we look at the faith of Luther. Truly, it may be said
of him that he was strong in faith, giving glory to God. No
man ever understood it better, or more fully set forth its
place in the plan of salvation. To such men, death could
present no terrors. It had lost its sting. The grave had no
victory over them. They left the world in peace. Of Lu-
ther it is said by the pious Scott, " Thus died in peace, the
man, who, bearing no higher office than that of an Augus-
tinian monk, and afterward of a Protestant Professor of Di-
vinity, has shaken to its centre one of the most firmly seated
systems of despotism and delusion that the world ever be-
held ; who had provoked and for nearly thirty years defied
the utmost malice of those mighty powers which had a lit-
tle time before made the proudest monarchs to tremble on
their thrones ; while, for the suppression of his principles,
diet after diet of the German Empire, aided by the repre-
sentatives of the papal authority, met in vain. His hand had
been against every man that was engaged on the side of
reigning error, and every such man's hand against him ; yet
not one of them could touch a hair of his head to his hurt.
He lived and died unharmed, not only " in the presence of
all his brethren," but in despite of all his enemies. So mar-
vellous is the providence of God ; so inexhaustible is his
store of means for accomplishing " all his pleasure," and so
secure, under all circumstances, is the man over whom the
shield of his protection is extended."

JLuthcr jmiwfus for ^Hrltinethon.

LUTHER AND MELAXCTHON. 163

When Melancthon approached the period of his transla-
tion to a future world, nothing caused him so much grief as
the controversies in the church, and earnestly did he pra}T,
and often, that God would enable his servants — the preach-
ers of the gospel of peace to see eye to eye and fill them
with the spirit of peace.

On the day preceding his death, he said to Pencer : " My
disease causes me no distress and there is naught besides
which renders me uncomfortable. There is but one thing
about which I feel much solicitude, and it is that the
churches may be united in Christ Jesus." He added,
*' When God calls me from this world, I will be delivered
from my enemies, who are so full of sophistical hate and lies,
in this calamitous period." Some anxiety having been ex-
pressed in consequence of the return of his fever, he said with
composure, "I desire to depart and to be with Christ."

As his end drew nigh, with much fervor, he frequently
prayed for the unity of the church in the bonds of peace,
and repeated the words, " Christ is made to us of God, wis-
dom, righteousness, sanctification, redemption." Shortly
before his death, when his son-in-law asked him whether he
wanted any thing, he replied, " nothing but heaven," and he
went away from earth with humble confidence in God, re-
taining his faculties to the last, and exhibiting a most edify-
ing spectacle to his relations, the students and Professors of
the University, of the grace in which it is the privilege of a
good man to die.

The moral courage of these men was remarkable. It was
the result of their deep toned piety. If it should be thought
that the physical structure of Luther, his natural tempera-
ment contributed powerfully to this manifestation, it cannot
b e thought of Melancthon, whose organization was so differ-

164 LUTHER AMD MELANCTHON.

ent. Luther is universally celebrated for his heroism, his
whol* cj&re«jp ghovvs it, and there were occasions when it
gleamed forth in unsurpassed lustre. He could not be de-
terred from duty by the fear of man. I will go, though dan-
gers the most formidable may thicken around me. Neither
the hosts of men nor devils shall divert me from the path of
duty. To retract what he believed to be true, he could not
consent. Nothing could tempt him to do violence to his
conscience. He stood firm, appealing to God and relying
on his grace. Fear never mastered his heart, it brought no
snare to him. He was brave as a lion and did not flee even
though hunted by men. We have already seen how power-
less was the opposition of men, how mighty the protection
of God. Luther escapes unhurt and dies in peace, unmoles-
ted by his foes. In his case did God most signally make the
wrath of man to praise him, and the remainder of it did he
restrain.

It has not been common to ascribe to the great coadjutor
and friend of the greatest of reformers, a high degree of in-
trepidity. The more prevalent opinion has been that he
lacked courage even to the degree necessary for the main-
tenance of truth. It cannot be denied that the temper of
Melancthon was eminently pacific. He was opposed to
strife, he longed for the peace of the churches. He desired
that brethren should be agreed, that they should walk to-
gether in love. That he was ready to make sacrifices for
the promotion of unity, we believe, but he was not pusillan-
imous— ready to give up essentials for any object however
desirable. He was not lacking in energy, he was not de-
void of courage when they were necessary. On this point,
we are willing to permit others to speak. " Historians have
applied the term timid to Melancthon with great incaution."

LUTHER AND MELANCTHON. 165

" The hesitation of Melancthon in deciding upon new sub-
jects, or difficult cases, resulted not so much from timidity as
from conscientious scruples of mind. It was not that he
feared temporal, but moral consequences." "Those who
are solicitous of forming a correct idea of him, will rather
deem it slanderous than descriptive to call him the timid
Melancthon." A very competent judge, deeply read in the
history of the Reformation, thus expresses himself on this
point : " My impression is, that the fault of Melancthon's
character was not, as it is commonly supposed to have been,
timidity, at least in the sense of a hesitation to avow his sen-
timents, or a dread of personal danger, for many facts dem-
onstrate his bold disregard even of life itself, in the cause
which he had undertaken ; but rather a morbid fear of doing
amiss -, a fastidiousness which could never satisfy itself-, to-?
gether with such an excessive and, considering into whose
hands the direction of the affairs of the church is really
placed, such a superfluous anxiety for its peace and unity, as
sometimes exposed him to the danger of making undue sac-
rifices for this all but invaluable object."

These men were most laborious in the prosecution of the
work assigned them. They worked whilst it was day. In-
stead of regarding them as indolent, we may rather consider
it as difficult to comprehend how they accomplished so
much. The solution is found in the fact that, they regarded
the present life as the time of action. They looked for rest
in another world. They anticipated repose after the toils of
life. Of them, it may truly be said, that in labors they were
more abundant. They labored not in vain. They had un-
dertaken the regeneration of the church, and it was regen-
erated. Their influence was felt over the whole of Europe.
They gave an impulse to the human mind, which produced

166 LUTHER AND MELANCHTON.

great results whilst they lived, and which has been extend-
ing itself from generation to generation — enlightening, eman-
cipating, and purifying the soul. Much of the worlds glory,
both intellectual and moral, since they lived, has resulted di-
rectly or indirectly from their efforts. They were truly ben-
efactors of the human race, and the world may claim them
as instruments in the hands of God, of its highest and most
permanent good.

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g*est:dena7tenMail564.

JOHN CALVIN.

BY A LUTHERAN.

Among the illustrious men, who flourished in the sixteenth
century as reformers of the church, John Calvin deserves a
most conspicuous rank. The intelligent reader of the his-
tory of that eventful era, willingly pauses at the view of this
distinguished character, and asks, How did this great man
come forth from the hand of the Creator ? how was he led
and trained to become what he really was, and what influ-
ence did his mighty spirit exert on the people by whom he
was surrounded, and on the age in which he lived?

All truly great men come forth great from the forming
hand of the Creator. Thus also Calvin. He had nothing
remarkable in his physical frame. He was of middle height,
and of symmetrical structure ; he had a pale face of a brown-
ish tint, and brilliant, penetrating eyes, indicative of his dis-
criminating intellect, and in the latter years of his life, in
consequence of his protracted ill health, he was extraor-
dinarily lean. Though his external appearance indicated
nothing remarkable, yet God had endowed his mind with
splendid faculties. A quick apprehension ; a sharp discrim-
inating judgment; an expansive, penetrating understanding
that at once firmly grasped every subject presented to it ; a
wonderful memory that never forgot any thing; a pious
sternness that even in his youth made him the severe censor
of his friends ; a pure, moral sensibility ; an active love for
truth and justice, always associated with an abhorence of all

170 JOHN CALVIX.

unrighteousness, deception and flattery ; an invincible cour-
age that feared no danger • a presence of mind that was not
easily embarrassed ; and an unshaken perseverance in his
opinions and purposes — these were the natural gifts from
which Calvin's greatness proceeded and which he splendidly
developed in his laborious life. With these there was con-
nected an extraordinary industry, which elevated him far
above his fellow students even at school in Paris, and which
in his subsequent academical years impelled him to such in-
cessant study of the sciences, that he almost wholly denied
himself sleep. It was only by such unwearied diligence,
united with his great talents, that he could publish in his
twenty-seventh year the plan of his principal work, The In-
stitutes of the Christian Religion. Although his health suf-
fered much by these indefatigable labors, although subse-
quently he was always sickly and tormented with various
ills, yet his activity continued unflagging nearly to the end
of his life.

His quick apprehension, his clear judgment and strong
memory, combined with this industry, enabled him to treas-
ure up immense stores of knowledge. He was so well
versed in theology, that he was regarded by his hearers as
the first divine of the age, and by many he was specifically
designated as The Theologian. He was thoroughly ac-
quainted with church history, as far as it could be learned
from the books of that day and he made a profitable use of it.
He was at home in the ancient classics and read the writings
of Cicero through every year. He was perfect in Latin,
and wrote it more purely and elegantly than most of his co-
temporaries. He was not so powerful in the Greek, and in
a knowledge of this language, he was not to be compared to
Melancthon. Of the Hebrew, which at that time was known

JOHN CALVIN. 171

to but a moderate number of theologians, and which Luther
himself learned only at a late period of his life, he had but
a tolerable acquaintance, for the auxiliaries to its study were
very rare and few. Hence as an interpreter of the scrip-
tures, he employed himself much more about things, than
words ; but yet his clear mind and admirable tact often led
him to most happy explanations of words. He was a mas-
ter in philosophy, both ancient and scholastic ; and in logic,
his equal was not to be found. With history he was famil-
iar, and his writings are rich in historical illustrations and
examples. He had studied law profoundly and he often
made use of this knowledge in his exegetical and polemical
writings, and in his judgments on ecclesiastical and political
affairs. As a praacher he was not distinguished by a bril-
liant oratory, his idea of a sermon was the same as Luther's,
that it was not a spiritual oration, but an exposition of the
scriptures with practical applications. But in his other wri-
tings, he is eloquent and he abounds in profound thought and
acute observation. He was opposed to that species of elo-
quence which consists in mere ornamental words and splen-
did imagery. He was perhaps the most logical thinker of
his day. His thoughts are always systematically arranged
and he never swerved from his convictions. His theology
was unchangeable. He was in favor of clear conceptions,
and hence of definitions and distinctions. His proofs and
objections are lucid and stated with great precision; his con-
troversial writings are subtle, dexterous, profoundly and dis-
tinctly comprehending the subject.

These intellectual qualities made him the great theologian,
the influential teacher and the victorious combatant for the
reformation ; but the not less distinguished qualities of his
heart made him the reformer of morals and of the church.

172 JOHN CALVIN.

Faith and action, theory and practice were intimately united
in him ; the reformation appeared to him only half accom-
plished, yea, scarcely begun, which only improved the opin-
ions and morals of men. Hence with unconquerable perse-
verance he insisted on the establishment of church discipline
and maintained it amid severe opposition. Although his dis-
criminating judgment was his principal talent, yet he was not
merely a logician and controversialist. A really penetrating
mind cannot employ itself only about words and dry proposi-
tions, but will everywhere observe the connection between
faith and action. His first theological writing was a practi-
cal one, and in his exegetical works the application of the
Bible to human conduct is every where enforced. Hence he
severely censures those who have nothing of religion but the
name and the confession.

To his profound reverence for God there was naturally
associated a reverence for God's word. In this respect he
was like Luther. In the maintenance of this divine truth,
he shrunk from no danger and feared no opposition. His
courage in contending against error and vice and his unsha-
ken perseverance in upholding what was good, had a reli-
gious ground and hence were the more immoveable. In the
examples of pious men in the holy scriptures, who contend-
ed against the corruptions of their times, he found consola-
tion and encouragement in his opposition to the vices of his
own day. He most heartily despised the accommodation of
divine truth to human prejudice, an ambiguous confession of
it and any attempt to reconcile it with error or injustice.

He had no regard for human authority or influence in the
affairs of the church. Hence he was not pleased that no
one dared to oppose Luther on the renewal of the sacramen-
tarian controversy, for he was convinced that Melancthon

JOHN CALVIN. 173

and many others in Saxony were secretly not of Luther's
opinion.

He was the irreconcilable enemy of immorality in all its
forms and exercised a rigid church discipline in Geneva with
equal boldness against the great and small, against senators
and citizens. But much as he demanded of others, he was
equally severe against himself. His whole character was
stern, and yet he was a sociable and pleasant companion.
His life was pure, and the universal respect of the intelligent
and well disposed, particularly of the city of Geneva, shield-
ed him against the calumnies which his bitter enemies heaped
upon him. The people of that city never doubted his
attachment to the truth, his patriotism and the unblemished
purity of his life. And although like all great spirits, who
oppose the vices of men and inflexibly war against error, he
did not gain the love of all, yet he forced all to respect him,
and the wicked feared him. Like Luther, he was of ardent
temperment, but he studied to conquer his resentment.
Without indignation against evil there is no real love for
good, and without this Calvin would never have effected any
thing- great. He who cannot hate what is hateful, can neither
love what is lovely. Yet he was only violent against the
enemies of religion and moralit}T, or those whom he held as
such ; but forbearing and magnanimous against those who
injured him personally. Though he knew that the other
ecclesiastics of Geneva took an active part in his banish-
ment from that city ; though after his recal he could easily
have procured their dismission from their parishes ; though
even then they occasioned him much trouble by their secret
opposition to the exercise of church discipline, yet he did
not avenge himself, but proceeded in his course as though
these thinsrs were unknown to him. The senate had resolved

174 JOHN CALVIN.

to punish a woman for publicly insulting Calvin, but be per-
suaded that body to release ber. He cordially forgave
another enemy, Troillet, with whom he had long been in
controversy, and rendered him important services until the
day of his death. Towards others of his more distinguished
opponents, he displayed a laudable moderation. He cheer-
iully acknowledged the greatness of Luther. For Melanc-
thon he always entertained the most exalted opinion, — he
lauded his character in the highest degree, though he was
not satisfied with his apparent timidity. In his dedication to
his commentary on Daniel, he speaks of Melancthon as '* a
man worthy the respect of all future ages for his incompar-
able knowledge of every thing useful, his profound piety and
numerous virtues. He superintended a French translation of
Melancthon's principal work (Loci theologici) which was a
rival of his own "Institutes," and accompanied it (1546)
with a highly commendatory preface. He as cheerfully ac-
knowledged the merits of Farel, his coadjutor, and without
envying his celebrity, lived in the most intimate friendship
with him till his death. It was his desire that Viret should
come to Geneva, — he procured the settlement of Beza in
that city, and was envious neither of the eloquence of the
one, nor of the philological learning of the other.

He severely opposed all sinful amusements, such as cards,
dancing assemblies, theatres, extravagance in dress, and lux-
ury, which he regarded as incentives to sensuality. This
brought charges of austerity against him, and he thought
proper to defend himself in a book which he called " Excii-
satio adversus Nicodemitas." Even his enemies acknowl-
edged that he was very austere towards himself. He totally
denied himself all these enjoyments. He was extraordinarily
temperate, partly from principle and partly from necessity

JOHN CALVIN. 175

on account of his constant ill health, and frequently abstain-
ed from food altogether for thirty-six hours. He attached
no value to wealth, and was disinterestedness itself. When
he was first settled at Geneva, he served without a salary
and supported himself. When two years after, his banish-
ment was announced to him, he could triumphantly say, "if
I had served men, I would consider myself badly rewarded;
but I serve a higher master, who far from not remunerating
his servants, himself gives them that, which he does not owe
them." When on his return to Geneva, the people of Stras-
burg desired him still to draw the salary he formerly receiv-
ed there, he would not accept of it. On his re-settlement
in Geneva, his salary was fifty dollars, twelve measures of
grain, two casks of wine and house rent. He would never
suffer it to be raised, but afterwards took twenty crowns
less, because his ill health would not allow him to discharge
his pastoral duties. He resolutely refused a present of
twenty-five dollars which the senate desired to make him
during long sickness, and solemnly declared he would never
ascend the pulpit again, if they forced him to take it. He
hence calmly derided the accusation that he was rich and
lived in luxury. " My death will show that I am not rich,"
says he in the preface to his commentary on the Psalms — " if
I cannot now while living convince some of the fact. I ac-
knowledge that I am not poor, because I do not desire more
than I have." The property he left was scarcely worth
any thing, and his circumstances were so well known in
Geneva, that a laugh was occasioned when he was accused
in the senate by one, of aiming at wealth. He never would
exchange his post in Geneva for a more brilliant station. He
also took as deep an interest in the welfare of the city, as if
he had been a native of it. When a pestilence raged in Ge-
11

176 JOHX CALVIN.

neva in 1542, and no minister would venture into the hospi-
tal, Calvin offered his services as spiritual physician to the
afflicted. He could scarcely be restrained from it by the
most pressing opposition of the senate and the earnest en-
treaties of his friends. When in 1559, the city was threat-
ened with a siege, and it was fortified by the inhabitants, he
cheerfully laid hold and labored, and thus moved professors,
pastors, students and others, to follow his example.

It is not to be wondered at, that he could not always mas-
ter his temper. The times were too troubled, — the contro-
versies in which he engaged were too violent, and his oppo-
nents were too intemperate in their reproaches. He was
sometimes terribly bitter in his language. He hurled the
most opprobrious epithets at his adversaries. In general, he
had very little patience with men who differed from him in
opinion. Men of penetrating understanding, especially when
annoyed by constant ill health, easily become impatient and
violent, and then they often presume, that it is not incapacity,
but malice, which darkens and confuses that, which is so
plain to them. He became strongly excited when men at-
tempted to explain away that which is essential in religion,
or to bend it to human infirmity. That indifferentism of
later years, which tolerates all sorts of religious opinions and
walks forth between foolish superstition and wicked infidel-
ity, saluting each with a friendly bow, was no part of the
character of the reformers. With it, Luther and Calvin
might have become cardinals, but they never would have
been reformers. It was unavoidable that men of such strength
of character and superior jndgment as Calvin, should govern
the spirits by whom they are surrounded. This is called
ambition, or lust of power, and Calvin was often thus re-
proached. He was certainly born to rule, and the habit of

JOHN CALVIN. 177

directing- others, might gradually, especially if the cause of
truth seemed thereby promoted, manifest a gratification at
this preponderant influence and occasionally tempt a man to
surpass the bounds of moderation. At least the great ad-
mirer of Calvin, Beza, found it advisable after Calvin's
death, to propose that the president of the meeting of pas-
tors should not retain his office during life, but be elected
every year, because, as he added, a man different from Cal-
vin might abuse the influence which the office gave him.
His proposition was accepted.

But who would not forgive some infirmities in a man of
such distinguished virtues? In men, whom Providence calls
to revolutionize their generation, the boundary line between
ardor and violence, firmness and obstinacy, energy and 1m-
periousness, cannot be distinctly drawn. The scale, by
which ordinary men and events are measured, is not appli-
cable to them, because they are expected to perform extra-
ordinary acts. They are wonder-workers in the intellectual
world, whose effects, like miracles in the physical world,
transcend that which is common. Hence when the Jesuit
Maimbourg in his Histoire du Calvinisme, says: "Calvin
was the High Priest, or rather the Caliph of Geneva," — or
when he was frequently called "the Genevan Pope," — all
this is only an honorable acknowledgment on the part of
his enemies of the immense influence which his talents,
piety and energy procured for him.

His influence in the state and church was certainly great;
but herein consisted the usefulness of his life. When the
illustrious leader of the Swiss Reformation, Zwingli, fell at
Kappel, and none of his coadjutors had talent, influence or
energy enough to place himself at the head of the sacred
cause, and to form a new union point for the struggling

178 JOHN CALVIN.

church, then, Providence called Calvin to Geneva. He im-
mediately assumed the lead ; he grasped the staff which had
fallen from Zwingli's hand, when Zwingli fell on the battle
field ; he moulded the Swiss church into a solid form and
held it together; he made Geneva a pattern not only for
Switzerland, but for the Reformed churches of France,
Germany and Belgium ; his peculiar doctrinal views were
embraced in all the confessions of the Reformed church and
if his system of church discipline was not every where in-
troduced, it was because it was feasible only in small repub-
lican states and could not be carried into practical effect in
monarchies or the larger provinces.

But if it be asked how a pastor and teacher of theology
in Geneva, a small confederate city, which was far behind
the powerful cantons of Switzerland, such as Berne and Zu-
rich, and which was as nothing in comparison with the lar-
ger kingdoms of Europe, could secure such immense influ-
ence, and could make Geneva the second mother of the Re-
formed church, even eclipsing Zurich, we must resort to his-
tory for the answer. Calvin's intellectual greatness and
energy, associated with favorable external circumstances
solve the whole matter. Calvin's reputation as a theologian,
founded first on his "Institutes of the christian religion" and
established on his subsequent writings, was so firm, that stu-
dents from all quarters, Italy, England, Germany, but espe-
cially from France, flocked to Geneva, to hear his lectures.
His first banishment from Geneva and his brilliant return,
may also have directed the eyes of the world upon him ;
this increase of students occasioned the establishment of a
literary institution at Geneva, which almost exclusively sup-
plied France with ministers, so that Charles IX. formally
charged Geneva as being the nursery of heretical teachers

JOHN CALVIX. 179

for his kingdom. Just as Luther's views of divine truth
were spread abroad in the world by thousands who studied
at Wittenberg; so it was with Calvin in the South. Minis-
ters went forth from his school to Switzerland, Germany,
France, Holland and England and with his theological opin-
ions also carried home a profound veneration for the man and
an ardent preference for his system of church discipline.
Calvin himself took part in all the important affairs of the
church. He had correspondents in nearly every country.
Now he wrote to Poland, to oppose the Anti-trinitarians ;
then to Bohemia, to give advice solicited by the Moravian
brethren; again to England, to promote the Reformation in
that country; anon to France, to counsel and console his
friends; then to ministers, requesting them to give him an
account of their churches and to encourage them to stead-
fastness; and finally to kings, princes and rulers to gain them
over to the cause of the Reformation. He was on terms of
close intimacy with the most distinguished ministers of the
cause, as Farel, Viret, Peter Martyr, Bullinger and others,
and exercised great influence over them. Those who were
banished from France, England and Italy, he received most
kindly and patronized them to the greatest extent, and in a
short time, Geneva, which fortunately bordered on Italy,
Germany and France, became the great rendezvous of all,
who were banished from these countries for the sake of the
gospel. The emigrant Italians were so numerous in Geneva
that in 1546 a large church was specially appropriated to
their use. The English, banished by the bigoted Mary,
formed themselves into a particular congregation. When
Elizabeth ascended the throne, they returned to their own
country, not without gratitude to the hospitable Genevans,
and to Calvin their great protector and patron. The ccle-

180 JOHN CALVIN.

brated Knox was among them and he transplanted Calvin's
system of divinity and discipline into Scotland. There was
even a Spanish church constituted in that city. But the
French emigrants were particularly numerous. There were
many wealthy, intelligent and industrious families of them,
who permanently settled in Geneva.

All these strangers heard Calvin ; they honored his talents
and virtues ; they became his pupils ; they observed the
fruits of his labors in the good order and morality of the
city and spread abroad his fame and influence in all countries.
Geneva flourished under his influence and became distin-
guished for virtue, libert}^, industry and science. The mor-
als of the people which were loose before, became simple
and austere; from them, industry and prosperity sprang
forth ; a municipal constitution, in the construction of which
Calvin took an important part, (for being learned in law, his
opinion in political matters was often asked) secured to this
small free city a beneficial internal government-, Geneva
presented to the stranger the pleasing picture of a well or-
dered city in morals and law, and in the foreground of this
picture stood Calvin and the Reformation. Well might the
ingenious Montesquieu say, that the Genevans had reason to
engrave the day of Calvin's birth and of his arrival among
them on their walls. The light, which the Reformation
established by Calvin and the academy founded by him,
spread over Geneva, became still more resplendant after his
death. The sciences, not only theology, but philosophy,
history, medicine, natural history, rhetoric and the arts, all
flourished in Geneva, and this became one of the most cele-
brated seats of learning and the muses. There lived, or
were educated there, the celebrated Robert and Henry Eti-
enne (Stephens,) Isaac Causabon, James Godefroy, Gabriel

JOHN CALVIN. 181

Cramer, John Lewis Calandrini, Abraham and John Trem-
bley, Mallet and Mallet du Pan, Bourrit, Sismondi and those
learned families, several members of which elevated the
fame of Geneva and were distinguished in the sciences, such
as the Tronchins, the Turretins, the Le Clercs, the Span-
heims, the Heckers, the Saussures, the Bonnets, the Le
Sages, the de Lues, and the Ochards. And who does not
remember that the admirable Le Fort, the friend of Peter
the Great and the mighty helper of that monarch in the civ-
ilization of Russia, and that John James Rousseau, one of
the greatest geniuses of the last century, were Genevans?

It will be conceded then that Calvin, with Luther, Zwin-
gle and Melancthon, deserves one of the most conspicuous
places among the great and influential men of the sixteenth
century. He can be placed by the side of Luther, without
derogating in the least from either of these illustrious men.
In intellect, memory, penetration, piety, decision of charac-
ter, courage, untiring activity and disinterestedness, they
were similar. Luther's mind was more original and crea-
tive; after an imperfect education in his youth, he worked
himself out of monastic darkness into the light, more by the
energetic eagle flight of his own spirit, than by the aid of
others. Calvin, scientifically instructed by the most distin-
guished teachers of his times, stepped into that circle of
thought which had already been described by Luther, Zwin-
gli and others, and which he altered only in a few places ;
but he clearly elucidated and systemized the ideas embraced
within the circle, — he developed their grounds and proofs so
plainly and defended them so ably and perseveringly, that it
is easy to conceive he would have come to the same goal of
himself. Wherever the clear mental vision of Luther was
directed, he apprehended uncommon and original views

182 JOHN CALVIN.

of things, often led to an important result by one happy
conception, as it were, by the instinct of genius. Calvin
came to the same result by profound research and com-
bination of ideas. Luther often apprehended the truth,
before he was well acquainted with the proofs ; Calvin came
to the same conclusion by a consideration of the argument.
Like all truly great men, both held in high esteem the tal-
ents of others, and Calvin would have respected Luther
more if he had been well enough acquainted with the German
language to appreciate the writings of Luther in their origi-
nal energy. Calvin appears to have had no taste for the fine
arts ; he was neither a poet, nor a lover of music, as Luther
and Zwingli were ; hence he was surpassed by both in so-
ciableness of disposition, and at least by Luther in raciness
of wit and fire of eloquence. Calvin's eloquence proceeded
more from a resplendent understanding; Luther's from a heart
overflowing with sympathy. Hence he was not like Luther,
the orator of the people, but he operated by his refined
learning and exemplary morals, more on the cultivated than
the vulgar.

Luther was naturally more vehement than Calvin. His
powerful corporeal frame, his sensitive feelings and active
fancy, sometimes wrought him up to a degree of impetuous-
ness that overwhelmed all obstacles before him. Calvin
whose frail body could not endure much agitation, whose
fancy never conquered his judgment, tempered his natural
fire, and held it subject to his reflection. Luther, brought
up among a people whose coarseness he himself paints in
the strongest colors, proceeding from the solitude of a mon-
astery and of the study, never refined by the blandishments
of society, or by intercourse with the polite and cultivated,
sometimes abandoned himself to all the vehemence of his

JOHN CALVIN. 183

temperament and allowed himself expressions of reproach
and ridicule which even that unpolished age considered too
coarse. Calvin, educated in a refined metropolis, reared
under the influence of cultivated life, accustomed by the
study of law to moderation in personalities and to the re-
spect of rank, and polished by intercourse with the world,
always restrained himself within certain bounds; at least he
never forgot himself as Luther did, though he could not keep
himself altogether free from the abusive spirit of the age.
Luther was as much a man of feeling as of thought ; the
liveliness of his feelings, his love for music and poetry, de-
termined him more to cheerfulness than melancholy. He
was in the highest degree sociable ; a friend of innocent
mirth and good humor and the society of his wife and chil-
dren warmed and softened his heart, when it had become
cold and embittered by theological controversy. Calvin
thought more than he felt; the innocent recreations of life
found in his heart but few accordant strings ; his long pro-
tracted bodily sufferings determined him more to sternness
and gravity than sociableness, to which a childless marriage
may have contributed not a little. The courage and decision
of both had a deep religious foundation ; both showed them-
selves alike steadfast; Luther against the insurrectionary
Anabaptists, and before the Emperor and Diet; Calvin
against the rage of the Libertines and before the Senate of
Geneva. But there was this difference between them, —
Luther's strong sensibility ardently fell the unconditional val-
ue of truth and righteousness; Calvin's discriminating under-
standing, with the clearness of sun light, 'perceived it; Lu-
ther was strong by character, — Calvin by reflection.

LUTHER.

This distinguished man had naturally a sound constitution,
which was not easily affected even by his undefatigable in-
dustry and almost overwhelming labors. He was of moder-
ate height, full face, and fresh complexion ; much labor and
abstinence from gross food seemed to suit him best; the
least indulgence soon made him sick. He was of lively tem-
perament, was exceedingly fond of music, in which he pro-
duced many excellent compositions, and played skillfully on
the flute. His voice was penetrating and clear, which ren-
dered him a good alto singer in his earlier years. He had
an undying love for the truth, an extraordinary power in
discovering and defending it. There was an uncommon
transparency in his ideas and a singular felicity in expressing
them, so that he threw the clearest light on the darkest sub-
jects, and removed the thorns of subtlety as well as the
clouds and mist of confusion from all matters which he un-
dertook to illustrate. He had a rare faculty of representing
truth in the most vigorous style, showing the very kernel of
it in the most palpable manner; a remarkable penetration
into the ways of God and the internal connection of things ;
a heroic resolution to do and suffer every thing for the divine
truth; a cheerful readiness to promote every thing useful
and necessary and a wonderful fortitude in resisting every
thing which could lead him either to the right hand or to
the left. Loescher.

3Jo!W MtutWn.

JOHN REUCHLIN.

BY JOHN G. MORRIS, D. D.

Among the most distinguished of those men who prepared
the way for the glorious Reformation, was John Reuchlin.
He contributed more to revive in the church the study of the
scriptures in the original languages, than any of his cotem-
poraries, and thus furnished the soldiers of the army of Christ
with weapons which had long been locked up.

His extraordinary talents had been cultivated at an early
age in the flourishing school of his native village of Pforz-
heim. His rapid progress in study, his pleasing manners, his
sprightly disposition and his remarkably sweet-toned voice,
as heard in the* church choir, attracted the attention of the
Margrave of Baden. This nobleman selected young Reuch-
lin as a travelling associate for his son, who was about pro-
ceeding to the University of Paris. This was in 1473. —
Reuchlin accepted the appointment with joy, for Paris was
at that time, the most celebrated university of the west. He
there enjoyed the instructions of most distinguished Profes-
sors in the languages, especially in Greek and Hebrew, and
made corresponding progress. He not only learned the lan-
guages of Aristotle and Isaiah, but what was more impor-
tant, he became acquainted with the genuine doctrines of the
gospel.

In 1475 while only twenly years of age, he was appointed
Professor of Philosophy and Greek and Latin at Basle, and
taught with great success. He was encouraged by the best

188 JOHN REUCHLIN.

Greek scholars of that day, for all acknowledged his extra-
ordinary talents.

It was regarded almost a miracle to hear a German speak
Greek. Italians only possessed a knowledge of the language,
but the wonder increased when in 1487, he published direc-
tions for studying the Greek language. He was ridiculed
by the monks, who declared that Greek literature was fatal
to Roman piety, for the Greeks had always been schis-
matics.

Reuchlin could not embrace the theological dogmas of the
times and resolved to devote himself to the study of law, at
the same time however, bending all his energies to the men-
tal illumination of his countrymen.

He returned to France to attend the lectures of celebrated
professors of law at Orleans and Poitiers, and suppoited
himself by giving lectures on Greek and Latin literature.

Soon a wider field of operation was opened for him.
Eberhard the Honest, of Wiirtemberg, called him to Tubin-
gen to adorn that newly established university, as well as to
add another to the number of illustrious men who were the
companions of the prince. Reuchlin, particularly, became
his confidential friend. In 1437 Eberhard selected him as
his traveling companion to Italy. It was a glorious oppor-
tunity for the young professor. He there became acquainted
with many of the Greek scholars of the day, and astonished
them all with the extent and variety of his attainments. But
a more brilliant triumph awaited him in Rome. Eberhard
had an audience with the pope, — the whole Roman court
was assembled on the occasion, — a magnificent retinue was
in waiting. In the presence of this brilliant company, Reuch-
lin delivered an address in such pure and classical Latin, that
all were greatly astonished, expecting nothing of the kind

JOHN REUCHLIN. 189

from a German barbarian, and the pope declared, " this man
deserves to be ranked with the best orators of France and
Italy." From that time Reuchlin became the daily compan-
ion of Eberhard at his palace, his table and on his journies.
He consulted him on all the affairs of the state, and employ-
ed him in various embassies. During- all this time he was
improving his knowledge of Greek and Hebrew literature.
lie gained the good opinion of the Emperor Frederick III. to
such a degree that the monarch presented him with a patent
of nobility and what was more valuable to Reuchlin. an an-
cient manuscript Hebrew Bible, which is preserved to this
day in the grand ducal library at Carlsruh.

Eberhard, the friend and patron of Reuchlin died, and
was succeeded by another, who endeavored to extinguish
the light that was beginning to illuminate the world. Reuch-
lin was obliged to fly, and found a refuge at Heidelberg. He
was kindly received by the Elector Philip, and here he suc-
cessfully exerted himself to diffuse religious and literary light
among the people. He contributed greatly to elevate the
character of the university and to diffuse a taste for the study
of the classics and the Hebrew language.

In 1498 he was sent to Rome on an important mission, but
in the midst of his political engagements he did not neglect
his literary pursuits. He enjoyed the invaluable instructions
of a learned Jew in Hebrew and spent considerable sums
of money in the purchase of books and manuscripts, with
which he designed to enlighten his countrymen. He also at-
tended the lectures of a celebrated Greek. Reuchlin enter-
ed the lecture room accompanied by his diplomatic suite.
He saluted the lecturer in Greek. The professor was as-
tonished, and said, " Whence do you come, and do you also
understand Greek ?"' Reuchlin replied, "lam a German,

1 90 JOHN REUCHLIN.

and am not altogether ignorant of your language." The
professor requested him lo translate and explain a passage of
Thucydides. Reuchlin did so, on which the Greek cried
out in grief and amazement, " Our fugitive Greece has wan-
dered over the Alps."

On his return to Germany, he found a different state of
things in Wiirtemberg. His enemies had lost their influence
and he was permitted to reside there. He resolved now to
devote himself exclusively to literary pursuits, but his im-
mense popularity often occasioned interruptions. His coun-
sel in important affairs of church and state was still sought.
But every leisure moment he gave to his favorite pursuits.
Now he began those works which were most important to
the Reformation. He translated and expounded the Peni-
tential Psalms, he amended the Latin translation of the Bi-
ble, called the Vulgate, published a Hebrew and German
Grammar and Dictionary ; corrected the Hebrew and Greek
quotations for a new edition of the Commentaries of Jerome,
and wrote a work on Pulpit Eloquence, besides several other
books on religious subjects.

But it was by his conduct also that he sought to promote
the cause of truth. How can posterity ever forget that it
was he, who first directed Philip Melancthon in his studies,
and pointed out the way that led to his future usefulness and
fame. He was the literary counsellor of many noble minded
and studious youth, and encouraged them in their literary
pursuits by presents of books and condescending attention.

Reuchlin was better adapted for solitary, peaceful study,
than for violent, public controversy, and hence it grieved
him when he was compelled to enter the arena of polemics.
But he did not shrink. Melancthon gives us the occasion of
this controversy, which was the following : " At Cologne

JOHN REUCHLIN. 191

there was a baptized Jew, named PfefTerkorn, intimately con-
nected with the inquisitor, Hochstraten. This man told the
inquisitor that he could extort from the Jews a considerable
sum of money, if he could procure from the Emperor an or-
der, requiring them to bring all their books (the Bible alone
excepted) to the town hall of the city in which they resided,
there to be publicly burned. The Jews would offer any
sum to redeem their books, which Pfefferkorn and Hoch-
straten might then divide among themselves. The monks
gave out that their books were full of blasphemies against
Christ, and the Emperor. The Emperor asked Reuchlin
his opinion of these books. He, shut up in his study at
Stutgardl, did not suspect the motives of the monks. He
advised that the grammatical and medical books of the Jews
should be saved, and only those which were written against
Christ, and which he named, should be destroyed. The
Emperor was pleased with the suggestion and the books
were restored to the Jeivs. The inquisitor, like a hungry
raven that had lost its prey, became furious with rage. He
selected various passages from the writings of Reuchlin,
perverted their meaning, accused him of heresy, collected
his associates at Mainz and publicly burnt Reuchlin's books.
This was the beginning of the war. Reuchlin appealed to
the Emperor, to the pope himself, and issued a defence.
The pope referred the whole affair to the bishop of Spires;
the bishop called in other wise men as judges and they pro-
nounced Reuchlin innocent. The discomfitted monks them-
selves then turned to the pope, but Reuchlin had many
friends in Rome as well as in Germany who pleaded his
cause. Even Erasmus interceded in his behalf. The oppo-
nents of the monks increased every day. The witty Ulrich
von Hutten was at their head, and it is supposed that he was

192 JOHN REUCHLIX.

one of the authors of the famous " Epistolalae virorum obscu-
rorum," and soon after " clarorum virorum." The monies
were exposed to ridicule and thus lost much of their influ-
ence. Hochstraten and his associates now raged vehement-
ly, and by their violent measures only injured their own
cause. They roused other opponents and the excitement
was great. About this time, Tetzel kindled a still more
general fire in Saxony and awakened Luther in opposition to
his diabolical delusions. Reuchlin's combat with the monks
opened the eyes of multitudes, and who will say how far it
contributed to inflame the energy of Luther himself? Reuch-
lin may have anticipated the result, for when he heard of
Luther's opposition to Tetzel, he exclaimed, " Thank God,
now they have found a man who will keep them so painfully
busy, that they will let me, an old man alone!"

About this time he refused an invitation from the Elector
to the University of Wittenberg, pleading his old age, (63
years) and recommended Philip Melancthon. After this,
political difficulties forced him to fly from his native land
and reside among strangers. But he every where found pa-
trons, in the friends of literature and admirers of genius. He
at length died in peace in the seventieth year of his age.

Erasmus wrote a dialogue entitled, " The Apotheosis of
Reuchlin," — he places him among the saints and gives him
a seat immediately beside Jerome. This elevation was due
him, for he was one of the first who maintained the impor-
tance of studying the scriptures in the original languages, to
the theologian. He was the philosophical reformer of his
day and demonstrated the absurdity of blindly following the
dogmas of the scholastics. He directed the attention of his
cotemporaiies to the long forgotten models ol genuine art
and science, as exhibited in the works of Greek and Roman

JOHN RETJCHLIN. 193

writers, and thus contributed immeasurably to refine the taste,
illuminate the understandings and to correct the theological
errors of his age. He put men in the way of arriving at
gospel truth, and prepared them for the Reformation. Lu-
ther himself wrote to him and said : " The Lord has done
this through you, that the true doctrine of the scripture
might again begin to breathe in Germany, where for so many
centuries it has been, alas ! not only oppressed, but extinct.'"

12

LUTHER.

In 1519, that is, two years after the Reformation began,
Mosellanus describes him, "as so lean, in consequence of
hard study, that nearly all his bones may be counted. His
learning and acquaintance with the Holy Scriptures are in-
comparable. He never fails for matter in speaking, but has
an uncommon fund of subjects and words always ready at
hand. In his manners, he is polite and friendly ; — there is
nothing stoical or haughty about him and suits himself to all
classes. In company, he is very affable and agreeable."

He had a clear, lively countenance and the eyes of an eagle ;
his person was handsome; he was a sociable, amiable, sin-
cere, hospitable, good humored man ; temperate in all things
and said nothing that was useless; he was severe to the obsti-
nate and proud; condescending to the modest. As soon as he
was asked the meaning of a passage in the scriptures, he was
ready with a reply ; when he was asked for advice, it was
soon felt who was the counsellor ; he was not morose, and
frowned on no one who conducted himself properly, but was
tender in his answers and mild in all his deportment to such ;
he sympathized with the weak in understanding and took no
advantage of their infirmities ; he gave away and loaned mo-
ney when he had it, freely, and was always ready to serve
every man in every possible way. Keil.

&utf)tt''# Cell*

LUTHER'S CELL IN ERFURT.

BY J. G. M.

The ancient monastery of the order of Augustinian monks
is a conspicuous edifice in the quiet little city of Erfurt. It
is visited by all curious travellers, not for its architectural
beauties, nor for its gigantic dimensions, but because it was
once the residence of the immortal Luther. When he de-
voted himself to the monastic life, he entered this monastery.
It was on the night of the 19th of August, 1505, when he
was twenty-one years and nine months old. He shut himself
out from the world, as he thought, forever, and voluntarily
submitted to all the austerities of that celebrated order. He
occupied a lonely cell, where he agonized and prayed, but
his mind was still in darkness, for the way of salvation by
the gospel was entirely unknown to him. It is this cell
which multitudes of pilgrims now visit, to see where the
great master mind of his generation, spent so interesting a
period of his eventful life.

Cross the court of the former orphan house, — ascend the
steps to the right, — pass the dormitories of the children, and
you will enter a high vaulted hall, adjacent to which are the
cells of the monks. Advance a few steps, and you stand
before a low, old door, marked No. 11, and on a circular
plate above it you read the following inscription :

Cellula divina magnoque habitata Luthero

Salve, vis. tanto cellula digna viro!
Dignus erat Regum qui splendida tecta subiret ;
Te dedignatus (si non) tamen ille fuit.1

'Hail, little cell, where mighty Luther dwelt !
A home too lowly for so great a mind ;
Yet he who might the halls of kings have graced,
Ne'er at thy rude and simple walls repined.

198 luther's cell in erfurt.

The guide opens the door and then you have the view as
represented in the accompanying cut. A portrait as large
as life of the distinguished man who once occupied this nar-
row, dark room, first attracts your attention. There he
stands, as though still living and ready to welcome you into
his humble abode. But though absent, you feel the influence
of his spirit, for that is felt wherever light and human liberty
dwell. Near the head of the Reformer, you read the fol-
lowing words by the painter.

Martinus Lutherus S. Theol. D. natus Islebiae Anno
1485, ibique in Christo obiit Anno 1546, d. 18 Febr. et
Wittenbergiae sepultus est, aetatis 63.

m. l. Northusianus. p.1

Under his feet you read the following Latin verses :

Cur mundus toties aiflixit dogma Lutheri

Verborum stimulis, funibus, igne, rota?
Nititur id verbo Christi, quod tempore quovis

Per mundum Sathan sic agitare solet.
Ast cur non tanta periit vi dogma Lutheri ?

Vis verbum Christi tollere nulla potest.2

On the right, you see an old round table, which probably
did not constitute a piece of its furniture in Luther's time.
But on this table, you observe a travelling casket and writing
apparatus, whose authenticity is established by documents
lying beside them. The traveller's register lying open, con-

'Martin Luther, Doctor of sacred theology, bom at Eisleben in the year
1485, — died in Christ at the same place on the 18th Feb., 1546, and buried
at Wittenberg ; aged 63. M. L. Northusianus, Painter.

2Why thus has Luther's doctrine been pursued

By rage of speech, the rope, the fire, the wheel?

Tis that upon Christ's gospel it relies

And Satan's anger hence is doomed to feel.

But thus opposed lias Luther's doctrine failed?

No power against the word of Christ has e'er prevailed.

luther's cell in erfurt. 199

tains many celebrated names; an older one is preserved in a
drawer of the table on the other side and thus concludes,

Frederick William, May 31, 1803.
Louisa, May 31, 1803.1

On the table, the half of which only is visible, lies the old
Testament, translated by Luther, folio edition, Wittenberg-,
1541. Before the title page of this book, there were several
leaves of parchment, on which were biblical texts with ex-
planations written by Luther, Bugenhagen, Melancthon,
Creuziger, Jonas and Agathon, and this imparts an uncom-
mon value to this Bible. To preserve these autographs,
they were taken out, framed under glass and suspended in
the recess on both sides of the window. Those written by
Luther and Melancthon are given in a subsequent part of
this book, as specimens of their hand writing. The others,
which follow, are not less remarkable as specimens of the
manner in which these men explained the scriptures.

Hosea ii. Rom. ix. (26.)

And it shall come to pass, that in the place where it was
said unto them, Ye are not my people, these shall be called
the children of the living God.

What have those deserved, who are not the children of
God? Hell and hell fire. How do they become the chil-
dren of the living God ? Not by their own merits, but by
the grace of God, through Christ the Son of God, who gave
himself a sacrifice for us, as Hosea says (i. 11.)

Then shall the children of Judah and the children of
Israel be gathered together and appoint themselves one head.

John Bugenhagen, Pom. D.

m. d. xlih. 5 September.

'The King and Queen of Prussia.

200 lttther's cell IN ERFURT.

Isaiah xlix. (15.)
Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not
have compassion on the son of her womb ? Yea, they may
forget, yet will I not forget thee.

Ibidem. (23.)

And kings shall be thy nursing fathers and their queens
thy nursing mothers; they shall bow down to thee with their
face towards the earth and lick up the dust of thy feet; and
thou shalt know that I am the Lord ; for they shall not be
ashamed that wait for me.

These are precious promises, that God will not suffer his
church, that is christians, who profess his word, ever to be in
want, as little as a pious mother will suffer her beloved child
to be in want.

He promises also that he will preserve, and defend his
little flock on earth, against the rage of the devil and the
power and persecution of tyrants, — and that earthly rulers
will be converted to nourish and serve the church.

Caspar Creuziger, D.

August 9, 1543.

Coi. a.

" Beware lest any man spoil you through philosophy and
vain deceit, after the tradition of men, after the rudiments of
the world and not after Christ, for in him dwelleth all the
fulness of the God-head bodily, in whom are hid all the
treasures of wisdom and knowledge."

Here the apostle shows very plainly what true religion,
the genuine service of God, the highest wisdom and pure
doctrine are.

luther's cell in erfurt. 201

Why do not men cling to this and obey the Holy Ghost ?
What connexion with the church have Satan's council, the
pope's decretals, the cardinal's session and procession, the
beggarly dogmas of the four orders of monastic beggars,
and stupid, monkish dreams and fables, which have so long
deluded the world ? Justus Jonas.

Isaiah Hit.
" Because he hath poured out his soul unto death an offer-
ing for sin ; he shall see his seed."

This is a short but excellent sermon. It embraces the
principal part of the Messiah's office. It first teaches us
that the death of the Messiah was a sacrifice for the sins of
the world, therefore without the death of Christ, the sins of
men and the punishment of sin cannot be taken away by the
merit of works.

Hence after the glorification of Christ, his kingdom, that
is, the church collected out of all nations by the gospel
ministry shall always endure, as long as the glorified Messiah
reigns in heaven. Consequently the rage of Satan, of ty-
rants and of heretics shall never be able to exterminate this
kingdom, that is, the congregation of the faithful in Christ
who embrace and maintain the gospel, as is often elsewhere
and with particular distinctness declared in Matt. xvi. " The
gates of hell, &c.s and Ps. ex. Rule thou in the midst of
thine enemies."

To the true and eternal God, our King, our Deliverer and
High Priest Jesus Christ, with the Father and Holy Ghost,
praise, honor and glory for ever and ever.

Philippus Agathon, M.

22d Sep. 1543.

202 luther's cell in erfurt.

The walls of this cell will be seen to be covered with
various passages of scripture, the fundamental doctrines of
the Bible, as taught by ths Lutheran church, and the princi-
pal events in Luther's life. These have all, of course, been
inscribed there in modern times.

We cannot leave this cell in which the light of the divine
word first broke upon him, without calling to mind his own
language about his residence in the monastery. " Truly I
was a devout monk and observed the rules of my order so
rigidly that I can say, if ever a monk went to heaven by his
monastic merits, I should have got there. If it had endured
much longer, I should have fallen a martyr to my vigils,
prayings, reading and other labors." And when his mind
had dispelled the darkness which had so long obscured it,
he praised the Providence which had conducted him through
this way. For says he, " God led me in that way, that I
might learn the wisdom of the schools and the sanctity of
the monastic life from experience, that is, by many sins and
ungodly works, so that my ungodly enemies might not blame
me for condemning those things of which I knew nothing."

LINES.

BY A DISTINGUISHED DIVINE OF THE DUTCH REFORMED CHURCH.

O that the soul of Luther

Were on the earth again !
The mighty soul whose mightier faith

Burst ancient error's chain.

And flash'd the rays of God's own word

Through superstition's night,
Till the church of God that sleeping lay,

Awoke in Christ's own light.

For there are banded traitors strong,

Who fain would round us cast,
The fetters that our fathers wore,

In those dark ages past.

The church ! the church ! they loudly boast,

The cross ! the cross ! they cry ;
But it is not God's pure church they love,

Nor the cross of Calvary.

They would knot again the painful scourge,

And fire the martyr's pile,
And the simple poor of God's free grace,

With mystic words beguile.

They would tear the Bible from our hearts,

And bid us blindly turn,
From the holy page, and the Spirit's power,

At the feet of men to learn.

204 LINES.

They darken e'en the house of prayer,

With gothic shadows dim,
Lest the sun of truth and righteousness,

Should shine on us from Him.

They open lying legends old,
And claim their right to rule,

Through lines of tyrant prelates long,
From the meek apostle's school.

They stand between us and our God,
In their robes of bigot-pride,

And swear that none who serve not them,
Shall serve the crucified.

O ! that the soul of Luther,
Were on the earth once more,

And his mighty faith in the word of truth,
Those floods of light to pour.

For the church, his holy zeal once led
From worse than Egypt free,

Is wandering from the glory back
To foul captivity !

Ulticl) Stmwfli

g*eb : deniten Jaxi:1484 .
g-est:denlUeuOct:1531.

ULttIC ZWINGLI,

THE SWISS REFORMER.

BY LEWIS MATER, D. V.

At the same time when Luther appeared in Germany as
the restorer of the light of the gospel and of the freedom of
thought, an equally devoted champion of holy truth and of
the rights of man in sacred things arose in Switzerland.
This was Ulric Zwingli, the patriot and the christian; the
countryman of William Tell, and the humble disciple of the
Lord Jesus Christ. Fired by the love of liberty, thirsting
for the deliverance of the church and of his country from
the corruptions of the times, and animated by the spirit of
God for so great an enterprise, he boldly grappled with the
tyrant of the age, at whose frown kings had fallen from their
thrones, and nations trembled ; and, contending for the salva-
tion of millions, who were groaning under the weight and
the galling of their chains, he conquered, though he fell, in
the fierce encounter. Who, we may ask, is more truly wor-
thy that his memory should be cherished and honored by
posterity? Or who has earned a more valid claim to the
gratitude of all succeeding times, and of every christian
people ? Not an Alexander, who rambles up and down the
world in quest of fame, and holds in his hand a sword drip-
ping with blood, and spreads desolation and death over the
fairest portions of the earth. Not a Napoleon, ruling over
prostrate nations, himself ruled over by the lust of power;
who leads forth the youth of his country to the slaughter in

ULRIC ZWINGLI.

foreign lands, depriving old age of its prop and the parent's
heart of its consolation, and fills the world with mourning
for the past, and with dread of the future. It is another
kind of conqueror in a different warfare, the benefactor and
not the destroyer of men, that has earned our highest admi-
ration, and deserved our kindest affections. It is Luther, in
the work which he wrought and the victory which he won;
not for himself, but for his fellow-men ; not for his own fame,
but for the glory of God. It is the noble-minded Zwingli,
who fought like him in the same benevolent cause, and
achieved the same kind of victory ; whom the Lord took
from the herdsmen of Tokenburg, and constituted a light to
them that sat in darkness, and a deliverer of his people from
a bondage worse than Egyptian. In whatever estimation
such men may be held by the men of this world, in heaven
they are honored ; and when all that the world esteems great
shall be remembered no more, and the star of Alexander,
and the star of Napoleon, and all the galaxy of illustrious
wickedness and folly, shall have set in everlasting night, the
names of Luther and Zwingli, and the names of their great
compeers, shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and
as the stars of heaven forever.

Ulric Zwingli was born at Wildhaus, one of the loftiest
mountain villages of the county of Tokenburg, now included
in the canton of St. Gall, on the first day of January, 1484.
His parents were Ulric Zwingli, Ammon, or chief-magistrate
of the village, and Margaret, of the family of Meili ; both
descended from ancient and honored progenitors. His pat-
ernal uncle was Bartholomew Zwingli, the first pastor of the
recently constituted parish of Wildhaus, and from the year
1487, pastor and dean of Wesen on the lake Wallenstad.
His uncle on the maternal side was John Meili, who from

ULRIC ZWINGLI. 209

1513 to 1523, bore the dignity of Abbot of the monastery
of Fishingen, in the county, now the canton of Thurgau.

Ulric, the third of eight sons, giving early indications of
singula]' talents, was destined, by his pious parents, to learn-
ing and the service of the church, and was, for this purpose,
placed under the guardianship of his uncle at Wesen. In
his tenth year he wras sent to the Theodore school at Basel,
which was then under the direction of the learned and kind-
hearted Gregorius Binzli. In pursuance of the advice of
this modest and amiable teacher, he was, in 1597, removed
to Bern, where he studied the Latin classics under the tui-
tion of Henry Lupulus, (Wolflein) who had attained much
eminence in classic lore and poetic genius. At this institu-
tion Zwingli began to form his taste by the exquisite models
of antiquity, and to exercise himself in Latin composition.
Much of his leisure was devoted to music, both vocal and
instrumental. His skill in this art attracted the notice of the
Dominican monks, who wrere exceedingly desirous of pos-
sessing one who might become so useful to their convent,
and left no means untried to entice him into their fraternity.
But as soon as his father and uncle were apprised of these
attempts, they removed him from Bern, to preserve him from
the polluting society of these unholy friars, who then enjoy-
ed no enviable reputation for virtue, and not long afterwards
rendered themselves infamous, all the world over, by the
impious imposture of which the simple Jetzer was the
wretched victim. From Bern, Zwingli was translated to the
University of Vienna, where he studied the philosophy
which was there in vogue. After a full course of two years,
he returned to the paternal home, but his continuance here
was short; his thirst for knowledge soon took him again to
Basel, which was then the Kirjath Sepher (the city of books

210 ULRIC ZWINGLI.

and learning) of Switzerland. Here he obtained the situa-
tion of assistant teacher in the school of St. Martin, and was
thus enabled to release his father and uncle from the burden
of farther expense. He prosecuted his classical studies with
order, but now in company with Leo Juda, applied himself
principally to theology. His principal instructor in this de-
partment, was Thomas Wittenbach, of Biel or Bienne, who
came from Tubingen to Basel towards the close of the year
1505. It was by him that Zwingli was taught the true
method of interpreting the holy scriptures, and conducted
lo a purer conception of the christian faith. It was from
Wittenbach that he learned to look upon the death of Christ
as the only propitiation for sin, and to reject popish indul-
gences and absolutions. All his subsequent discoveries in
theology were the results of this first light that dawned upon
his mind.

Although his opportunities at the public schools for the
acquisition of knowledge were respectable, his copious
stores were chiefly the fruit of his private application ; and
in the Greek language and literature, with which his ac-
quaintance was both so extensive and profound, he was al-
most wholly self-taught. In theology he obtained the ele-
mentary principles from Wittenbach, but the developement
of them, in the truth which they involved, and in the conse-
quences to which they led, was at least chiefly, his own.

In 1506 the church of Glarus, in the canton of the same
name, having chosen Zwingli their pastor, he received his
ordination from the bishop of Constance, to whose diocese
the parish belonged, and went first to pay a joyous visit to
his parents and the home of his youth, before he entered
upon the duties of his sacred office. He preached his first
sermon on his way, at Rapperschweil, on the lake of Zurich ;

ULRIC ZWINGLI. 211

his first mass he celebrated in the church at Wildhaus, amidst
the scenes and the friends of his childhood ; and from thence
he repaired, without delay, to the parish and the flock en-
trusted to his care. Ten years later he accepted the vicari-
ate of Einsiedeln, the far-famed place of favor, to which
pilgrims resorted annually to obtain the pardon of their sins,
and to pay their devotions and their offerings to an image of
the holy Virgin ; and there he proclaimed to the astonished
crowd, that Mary was not an advocate in heaven ; that her
image possessed no virtue; and that forgiveness could be
obtained only by faith in Jesus Christ ! He labored here
until the end of the year 1518, and on the first day of Jan-
uary 1519, he preached his first sermon in the Great Min-
ster in Zurich, and began his eventful ministry in that city
and canton.

We shall not here inquire whether Zvvingli preceded Lu-
ther, or Luther preceded Zwingli, or both were simulta-
neous, in the discovery of the truth. It is enough to know
that the one had not learned from the other, but each was an
independent witness, having drawn his doctrine, whether
mediately or immediately, from the Holy Scriptures, with-
out knowing what the other was doing ; without knowing
that the other existed ; and each, as the light arose in his
mind, separated the truth from error, and the teaching of
Christ and his apostles from the spurious additions of their
pretended successors.

Although remote from one another, without concert or in-
tercourse, differing in their tastes and habits, living under
wholly dissimilar forms of government, and entertaining very
different political opinions, they nevertheless, held in reli-
gion, substantially the same doctrines, and rejected the same
errors ; both aimed also at the same end, and both employed

212 TJLRIC ZWINGLI.

the same means. The inference from these facts is plain :
the Bible contains but one and the same doctrinal truth ; the
interpretation of the Bible can be safely left to the common
principles of exegesis ; and there is no necessity for an au-
thoritative interpreter, a pope, or a council, to tell the church
what the Bible teaches.

When Zwingli heard of Luther, and learned what his doc-
trine was, and when he understood how much Luther's suc-
cess surpassed his own, so far was he from being mortified
by the superiority of a rival, in a field where he might have
thought himself without an equal, that instead of giving place
to envy, he rejoiced in the higher praise of the Saxon re-
former, and sought to make his influence in Switzerland as
great as it was in Germany. He not only recommended the
writings of Luther to his hearers from the pulpit, but bore
also in his works the most honorable testimony to their value
and usefulness, and to the great merits of their author. " In
my judgment," said he, " Luther is as able a champion of
God, and investigates the scriptures with as much earnest-
ness, as any one on earth within a thousand years. I there-
fore do not at all regard it, when the papists call me with
him a heretic. Without derogating from others, I may say,
that no one has equalled him, since the papacy exists, in the
manly and unshaken courage with which he attacks the pope
of Rome. What is contained in the everlasting, unchange-
able word of God, he brings out copiously, and shows the
heavenly treasure to the poor misguided christians, not re-
garding what the enemies of God may attempt against it ,
neither does he care for their frownings and their threats. I
have designedly read but little ; but what I have read is so
well considered, and so well grounded, that it is impossible
to overturn it. In some things he gives way too much to the

.JJLRIC ZWINGLI. 213

weak; in which lam not of his opinion. When Luther
preaches Christ, he does it just as I do it ; although, God be
praised, a countlessly greater number is led to Christ by him
than by me and others ; to whom God gives their measure,
greater or less, according to his pleasure."

Such a testimony, in the circumstances of the case, is
equally honorable to both parties. As the character and sit-
uation of him that bore it assures us that it was borne be-
cause it was merited, so the free award of the honor which
is conferred, is a proof of the disinterested sincerity and
uprightness of its author. Zwingli's forbearing to read
much of Luther's writings, arose therefore, not from any
want of a just estimation of their value, nor from any unkind
feeling toward the author, but from a higher motive, and
from a principle which, in his opinion, was paramount to the
pleasure which the reading might afford him. " I have omit-
ted it," said he, " that I might thereby show to all men how
uniform the Spirit of God is, since we, so remote from one
another, without previous concert, nevertheless preach the
doctrine of Christ so unanimously ; although I am not to be
classed with him, for every one does what God allots to him."
An elevated motive, joined with a lofty sentiment and a love-
ly humility. What shall we say here to the reproach that
has been poured upon him in the charge of selfishness, con-
ceited obstinacy, and a proud and haughty bearing ? Surely
nothing else than, The Lord rebuke thee, Satan !

If any thing more were needed to prove the sincerity and
kindness of Zwingli's heart, and his pure devotedness to the
cause of truth, it would suffice to remind us, that when Lu-
ther's situation seemed desperate, when the Emperor's de-
cree of outlawry exposed him to the dagger of every assas-
sin, and the pope's bull of excommunication sanctified any
13

214 l/LRIC ZWINGLI.

deed of blood that might be undertaken against him, Zwin-
gli offered to him an asylum in Zurich, and pledged himself
to procure for him the senate's protection. That refuge, in-
deed, was not needed; God protected Luther, and provided
for him another place of safety, until the storm and tempest
were past, and the great reformer could prosecute his work
in his own country unharmed ; but not the less worthy is the
motive and the kind intention of the man, who opened his
door to an unprotected witness of the truth, whom the pope
and the emperor had doomed to perdition, while he might
justly fear that the wrath which pursued the fugitive would
pursue him to his retreat, and might involve them both in the
same catastrophe.

So kindly affected was the mind of Zwingli toward Lu-
ther, and so friendly was the relation subsisting between the
two reformers, until that most deplorable controversy on the
Lord's Supper arose, and in its progress alienated the one
from the other. We shall not here inquire how this unhap-
py strife began, nor determine who was most to blame in its
origination; but it cannot be concealed, that it proved, most
painfully, that both the parties engaged in it were human,
and both had sufficient need of that apology : Humanum est
errare z1 and the proof is the more humiliating, because all
enlightened christians now admit, that the point on which they
differed was not essential even to the Lord's Supper, much
less to the doctrinal system of Christianity. Both revered
the ordinance as a permanent institution of Christ; both ad-
mitted the elements to be bread and wine ; both held that it
is the duty of all professing christians to partake of it in re-
membrance of Christ ; and both taught that the true believer
only is benefitted by his communion, while the unbelieving

1 It ie human to err.

ULRIC ZWINGLI. 215

and ungodly eat and drink for their own condemnation.
They diifered only on one point, viz. Are the elements mere
bread and wine, and only symbols of the body and blood of
Christ ? or, Are the body and blood of Christ really and es-
sentially present and united with the bread and wine? This
was the vexed question, of which Zwingli affirmed the for-
mer and Luther held the latter view. In the progress of
discussion the Swiss reformer yielded so far as to admit a
presence of Christ's body and blood in the ordinance, and a
participation of them by the communicant, but qualified this
presence and participation by calling them spiritual, and ma-
king them apprehensible by faith only. His antagonist yielded
nothing. On the contrary, he took higher ground, and to fix
the notion of a real, corporeal presence and participation, in-
sisted that the body and blood of Christ are so present with the
bread and wine, that they are received together with them
by the mouth, and by the unbelieving as well as by the be-
lieving communicant. Zwingli declined any farther conces-
sion; and upon this question it was, the question, Whether
Christ be eaten spiritually or corporeally in the Lord's Sup-
per? that the reformers split, and their followers divided,
and formed two distinct and antagonist churches! Three
centuries have since passed away ; and they have been cen-
turies of unprofitable strife; controversy has raged in all its
vehemence and all its bitterness ; it has drawn away men's
attention and zeal from the substance of Christianity to a
shadow; from that which sanctifies the heart to that which
bewilders and mocks it; it has dissipated love, alienated bre-
thren, fomented jealousy, suspicion and envy, and prevented
the mutual recognition of children of God on opposite sides,
and in making them better sectarians, has made them worse
christians.

216 ULRIC ZWINGLI.

The long train of evils which that original breach has in-
troduced into the Protestant church, may be viewed, like the
consequences of Adam's sin in Paradise, as the rebuke of
God for that first transgression. The sin, however, was not
in the difference of opinion, but in the spirit that character-
ized it. It was a breach of the law of love. As such it
struck at the vitals of Christianity, undesignedly, indeed, but
still it struck there; and through that wound flowed out the
life-blood of religion; for what but a ghastly corpse, or a
ghastly spectre, is religion without love ?

It must be confessed, however, that Zwingli himself was
guiltless here. Far from regarding the matter at issue as a
fundamental article, and a sufficient cause of excision from
church-communion, be freely acknowledged those who dif-
fered from him as the Lord's people, and asked no more
than, that they should receive him as a christian brother,
without demanding, as the price of fraternity, that he should
renounce his settled convictions. He sought this by conces-
sions and with tears, but could not obtain it. We learn these
facts from a letter of Luther addressed to his friend, Jacob
Probst, dated at Coburg, June 1, 1530. Speaking of the re-
sult of the conference at Marburg, in 1529, he says: " You
see in the articles agreed upon at Marburg, that they have
retracted what they had perniciously and poisonously taught
in their published books concerning baptism and the use of
the sacraments ; also concerning the external word and min-
istry and other things. We retract nothing at all. But when
they were vanquished also in the article of the Lord's S up-
per, they refused to retract, although they saw that they
could not sustain themselves; for they were afraid of their
own populace, to whom they durst not return, if they had re-
tracted. * * * # Nevertheless, they promised with

ULRIC ZWINOLI. 217

many words, that they would say with us, that the hody of
Christ is truly present in the Lord's Supper, hut spiritually,
if we would acknowledge and call them our brethren, and
would thus simulate and feign a concord and agreement.
Zwingli, indeed, entreated publicly before the Landgrave
and the rest, with weeping eyes, and said : ( There are no
people on earth with whom 1 would rather be in union than
the Wittenbergers.' With great assiduity and perseverance
did they seek to effect that we should consider them as
agreeing with us; for which reason they could hardly bear
my words, when I said to them, You have another spirit than
we have. They burned wholly and entirely as often as they
heard such words. Ultimately, however, we conceded as
much as is contained in the last article, namely that we
would not exclude them from our christian charity. (Which
we owe even to an enemy.) It troubled them much that they
could not obtain from us the name of brethren, and were
obliged to go away as heretics ; yet so that we would be at
peace as to public controversial writings, if peradventure,
God would open their hearts."

The most sincere admirer of Luther must admit that he
erred here, and erred very seriously, and must wish that he
had entertained other views, and reciprocated the kind feel-
ings of his generous opponent. He was, however, sincere;
and if he could have seen his peculiar tenet in the light in
which all his intelligent and pious followers now view it, it
would not have needed Zwingli's entreaties, nor his tears to
persuade him to embrace that reformer most cordially as a
christian brother. His life is a proof that he was governed
in all his acts by a conscientious regard to the authority of
truth and of the will of God. Neither was he so narrow-
minded as to put the mark of heresy on every error, and to

218 tTLRIC ZWINGLI.

pronounce a sentence of damnation npon him that held it.
Of his liberality, his judgment concerning ceremonies, and
his indulgence toward those who were weak in knowledge,
are sufficient proofs. But the rejection of his doctrine of the
real presence and oral participation of Christ's body in the
eucharistic supper, appeared to him a vital error, which af-
fected not that ordinance only, but the whole system of
Christianity, and was utterly incompatible with true faith and
piety. He was most fully convinced that the words of in-
stitution, This is my body, &c, could have no other than
the sense which he assigned them, and that to reject that
sense, was to deny the truth of the words, and to make
Christ himself a liar. Against this all his soul revolted ; he
regarded it with pious horror; he saw in it, as he thought,
an impeachment of the character of Christ and of the faith-
fulness of God, and consequently, downright blasphemy.
Hence he considered .Zwingli and his associates unbelievers
and blasphemers, and was persuaded that they were leading
their followers, together with themselves, to eternal perdi-
tion ; and when he said to them at Marburg : " You have
another spirit than we have," he meant, and was understood
to mean, that their spirit was the wicked one. All Zwingli's
protestations, all his virtues and labors, and all his ortho-
doxy in other articles, availed him nothing; this one fatal
error vitiated them all, and proved them all to be mere sem-
blance and false show. Such, indeed, was the fulness of
Luther's conviction on this point, and so clear was the proof
of it to his own mind, that he thought it impossible that his
opponents could sincerely believe the contrary; and he,
consequently, viewed them as hypocrites who were self-con-
demned, and wilfully persisted in known error. However
we may deplore these opinions of the great reformer, they

CXRIC ZWINGLI. 219

were, nevertheless, his real opinions : and entertaining them,
as he did, his very piety forbade him to have communion
with such men, or even to listen with any patience to their
offers of brotherhood, or to their explanations and arguments
in support of their claim to that endearing relation.

What a lesson do these facts administer to us ! How sol-
emnly do they admonish us to exercise forbearance and
charity toward those who dissent from us in their religious
belief; to suspect our own judgment, when theirs is differ-
ent ; to look rather at the fruits of their faith, than at their
peculiar tenets ; and to judge of their relation to God, and
of their claim to our love, not by the accordance of their
creed with our own, but by the evidence they give of a
sanctified heart and a holy life ! Neither should we hastily
pronounce an opinion essential, or even important, to salva-
tion, when those who receive it and those who reject it dif-
fer little or nothing in the virtues that constitute the chris-
tian character. Holiness is the end at which all true relig-
ion aims. Knowledge, and faith, and every thing else, is of
value chiefly as a means to this end. Whatever is essential
or important to the attainment of holiness, is essential or im-
portant to the faith of a christian. But the connection of a
particular faith with holiness is not so much a matter of
speculation as of experience ; and the trueness of the form-
er must not be judged by the agreement of a man's belief
with a human standard, but by the conformity of his life to
the law of God : By their fruits ye shall know them. Matt.
vii, 20.

Long before the renewal of this unhappy controversy,
which was suspended after the conference at Marburg,
Zwingli slept with the pious dead, undisturbed by the noise
of fierce contention, and unhurt by the reproaches that fell

220 ULUIC ZWINGLI.

upon his name from those that hated him. He fell at Cap-
pel, by the sword of the Papists, on the eleventh of Octo-
ber, 1531, in the disastrous battle, in which his country suff-
ered a fearful overthrow, and many of her best citizens
pressed the earth and expired in their blood. He has been
censured for taking up arms and entering the field of battle.
But in this act he only obeyed the law of the state, which
made it the duty of the ministers of religion to do so : and
in obedience to the same law many others were present also ;
and not less than fourteen of them shared with him the same
fate. But these spiritual guides joined the army not as
soldiers, but as chaplains ; not to fight in the ranks, but to
counsel and comfort their people in the hour of danger: they
were armed, indeed; but this was for defence, and not for
aggTession.

It is unnecessary here to explain how this war arose.
Suffice it to say, that Zurich, having two years before co-
erced her enemy into a treaty which secured religious liberty
in all the states of the confederacy, was reposing in the con-
fidence of her strength, unprepared for a hostile invasion,
and disregarded the warnings she received of warlike pre-
parations among the papists for open violence ; when, sud-
denly, the five cantons, Luzern, Uri, Schweitz, Zug and
Unterwalden, took the field with a well-appointed army of
eight thousand men. This sudden danger, coming like peals
of thunder in a clear sky, filled Zurich with consternation ;
a panic seized upon the government and the people ; doubt
and indecision marked all their acts ; one order conflicted
with another; and treason, previously ready, was busy to
increase the confusion; in a word, Zurich was betrayed into
the hands of her enemy. An advanced guard was despatch-
ed on the tenth of the month to occupy the heights of Cap-

ULRIC ZWINGLI. 221

pel. Lavater, the commander in chief, arriving in haste,
urged that the alarm be instantly rung and the country raised
en masse to meet the foe ; but the senate were divided, and
lost the time in useless debate. Late in the evening the toc-
sin began to ring, and was answered from village to village,
and from one parish to another, as they caught the sound,
until it broke the stillness of night in a continuous din
throughout the entire canton ; but, while the darkness gave
solemnity and awe to the sound, treachery added terror by
false tidings; and, instead of calling forth soldiers for de-
fence, it rather spread dismay. The morning came, and no
army was collected. It was noon before the standard could
move from the city ; and it moved then with only seven hun-
dred men, many of whom were advanced in years. Zwin-
gli foresaw the fatal issue. He followed the standard, in
obedience to the senate's command ; but he followed it full
of sad forebodings, and with a strong impression that he was
destined never to return. On the way he withdrew once
and again to pour out his feelings in solitary prayer, and to
commend his cause and his country to the gracious Provi-
dence of God. As they pressed forward, in a forced march,
over the steep and rugged mount Albis, the report of cannon
apprised them that the advanced guard were engaged, and
courier afler courier arrived to hasten their speed. They
redoubled their exertions to succour their suffering brethren;
but the effort was above their strength ; many of the aged
and heavy-armed dropped exhausted on the Avay, and the
artillery, dragging too heavily, was left behind. Some of
the officers now proposed a retreat, despairing of success in
a conflict, with a handful of men already exhausted, against
an enemy so superior in numbers, and prepared for battle in
the freshness of his strength. But others thought it wrong

222 ULRIC ZWINGLI.

and ignoble to abandon their brethren who were attacked
and in distress. Among these was Zwingli, who remarked:
" As for me, I will go to the brave men, and will help to
save them, or die with them." A generous sentiment; but a
fatal resolution. Arriving near the scene of action, where
the advanced guard still nobly held out against fearful odds,
the troops were formed in order of battle. In the first line
stood the banner of Zurich, and near it was Zwingli, on
horseback, silent and thoughtful, except that he once inquir-
ed, which way the enemy was coming. Not far from him
was his friend, John Haller, pastor of Biilach. Haller ac-
costed him : " Master, Zwingli, speak to the people that
they be cheerful and brave." Zwingli replied : " Com-
panion John, we will all be cheerful and upright, and com-
mit our cause to God." Then turning to those who were
near enough to hear him, he said : " Upright men, be cour-
ageous, and fear not. Though we suffer, our cause is good.
Commit yourselves to God. He can take care of us and of
our people. May God preside!" He was in no frame of
mind for a lengthy address, and could not belie his feelings.
He anticipated a defeat, unless God would prevent it by
some extraordinary interposition, which he scarcely hoped
for. He was confident, however, that, whatever the issue
of this conflict might be, God would protect his own cause,
and the truth would ultimately triumph. To the will of God
his own was resigned. In that resignation he found rest for
his soul amidst the disturbance and confusion that prevailed
without; and, unable to inspire confidence of success where
he himself had none, his chief concern was now to direct
those whom he loved to the only fountain from which his
own comfort could be drawn.

ULRIC ZWINOLI. 223

While he thus awaited the near event, and the troops were
making their disposition for battle, when they had scarcely
begun to breathe more freely, and before they could recover
from their exhaustion, a furious attack was made upon their
position. The feeble army, fiercely assailed at different
points, soon gave way, and a total rout ensued ; but treach-
ery and cowardice combined with other causes to ensure the
diaster. The standard was hardly saved. Many of its
brave defenders fell around it covered with wounds, and
breathed no more. Among the fallen was Zwingli. Struck
by a stone, he fell to the ground and rose again thrice in
succession. A spear then pierced him, and he sunk upon
his knees, and exclaimed : " What calamity then is this ?
Well, they may kill the body, but the soul they cannot kill."
These were the last of his words that were heard. He was
left upon the field, bleeding at a mortal wound, while the
banner, sorely pressed, was hastily borne away. When the
victors came to spoil the dead, they found him in the midst
of the slain, near the place where the battle had raged, lying
upon his back, his hands folded upon his breast, his eyes
turned towards heaven, and his lips moving silently in prayer.
Without knowing him, they inquired whether he would have
a priest to confess him. He shook his head as a sign of
negation. Perceiving that he could not speak, and conse-
quently could not confess, they exhorted him to lift up his
heart to Mary and the saints imploring their intercession.
He again shook his head, and continued looking with un-
averted eyes toward heaven. Enraged at what they esteem-
ed an obstinate impiety, they now overwhelmed him with
curses, as a hardened heretic, who was unworthy of com-
passion ; and an officer just arriving at the spot, overcome
with wrath, thrust his sword under the dying sufferer's chin.

224 ULRIC ZWINGLI.

and inflicted a wound that terminated his life. On the
second day after the battle, when his body was recognized,
it was dragged upon a burning pile and consumed, and the
ashes were gathered, and, with mingled anathemas, scattered
to the winds.

Thus died Ulric Zwingli, in the forty-eighth year of his
age, in the full maturity of his powers, and in the midst of
his usefulness to the church and to mankind. Though the
work was not yet completed, his own task was done ; and
the servant of God was called home to his rest and his re-
ward. But his country mourned; his friends wept many
tears; his bosom friend, Oecolampadius, unable to bear so
great a bereavement, died soon afterward of a broken heart;
and Luther, believing that he had perished, because he had
left the world in a fatal error, even Luther wept; and so in-
tense was his grief, that he was himself brought nigh to the
gate of death ! Zwingli always esteemed Luther a man of
God. Luther has doubtless since learned that Zwingli was
the same ; and what pious christian does not believe that
Luther and Zwingli have long since embraced one another
as brethren, and have recognized in each other a child of
God and an heir of the same blissful inheritance in heaven ?
We leave them where they rest; and while their faults are
observed as beacons that warn us of danger, let their virtues
and their services be held in grateful remembrance ; and let
the precious possession for which they toiled and suffered,
the light of truth which they restored from its concealment,
the liberty of conscience and the freedom of thought, be
justly appreciated, and rightly used, lest God in his judg-
ment take them from us, and leave us again to darkness and
bondage.

®ra3tmt£» JUtfttjeriram ♦

gelj : den%8 ten0ct:1467.
ge/st;denl^teii.Juli:1536 .

ERASMUS.

BY THE REV. AUGUSTUS WEBSTER.

Great results often ensue causes apparently small and in-
sufficient. Who could have supposed, that from the dis-
honor and destitution which alone seemed to distinguish the
infant Gerard, would arise the illustrious Erasmus, illuminat-
ing the world with the splendor of his genius ! But such are
the ways of God. From the sheep cote must be taken the
youth, who is to supplant the dynasty of Saul, and introduce
a line of kings extending to the Messiah ; and from the
wrecked honor of the deceived maid of Sevenbergen, comes
forth the day spring of a Reformation, whose glory will
gleam forth to the advent of eternity.

Gerard was named after his father, a native of Tergau,
who became enamored of a lady, the daughter of a physi-
cian, whom he intended to marry ; but having been deceived
by a report of her death, he precipitately took orders in the
church, and bound himself to celibacy. The young illegiti-
mate was much cared for by his parents, and soon gave pro-
mise of rare ability. An exquisite voice occasioned him to
be employed as chorister in the Cathedral of Utrecht, when
but little more than four years of age ; and in his ninth year
he was entered at school in Daventer, where he advanced so
rapidly in literature, that he was ere long familiar with the
principal classic writers. He afterwards pursued his studies
at Paris, struggling with poverty, but overcoming that and
every obstacle by his amazing genius and perseverance. In

226 ERASMUS.

1497, being about 30 years old, he was invited to England,
where he was much caressed ; though still very poor, and
compelled to spend much of his time, in reading lectures to
young students, for his support.

In 1507, he went to Italy, to take a doctor's degree, and
received great attention. Afterwards he revisited England,
was the favorite of the king, and his principal courtiers, and
was promoted to distinguished posts at Cambridge. Other
honors awaited him in other lands, and his glory was unri-
valled until it faded away in the superior brilliance of the
sun of Saxony. Erasmus, for this was his Greek name, it
being fashionable then to translate one's name into the Greek
tongue, disappeared before the effulgence of Luther ; for he
had performed his part; he was but to prepare the way for
the monk of Erfurt; and having done this, he was laid aside
by the hand which had used him. God had fitted him for
his purpose, and, though himself had been unconscious of it,
had used him to awaken the world from the lethargy of po-
pery, and prepare it for the instructions and exhortations
necessary to its deliverance from ignorance and superstition ;
but he had not been fitted for further service ; this was Lu-
ther's part ; and Erasmus with his prodigious learning, his
unequalled wit, his resistless raillery, shrunk away from the
stage on which he had performed his part ; and heard the
world shake with thunders of applause to one, whose infancy
and inexperience were far beyond the age and wisdom of
the eclipsed and mortified " prince of letters."

But the fame of Erasmus will recover what Erasmus him-
self lost in the glare of Luther's glory. It has been seen
clearly that he performed his part ; that Luther could not
have accomplished what he did ; and was as unfit to begin
the Reformation, as Erasmus was to carry it on. If he

ERASMUS. 227

knew not what God was doing with him, and therefore mer-
its no thanks from the millions recovered from the terrible
powers of the papacy ; the same may be said of Luther ;
neither the one, nor the other knew the sequences of their
writings or sermons ; God had appointed them their parts in
the drama, but he had kept the results with himself; he
alone knew what was really to be done by the puny dishon-
ored boy of Sevenbergen, or by the humble son of the poor
peasant of Mcehra. His cotemporaries esteemed him as
obscured by the talents of Luther, and as deprived of all his
honors and dues by the powerful hand, which had grappled
with and overcome the foe, which Erasmus had only ven-
tured to discover. But it was not so. This great genius
was as necessary to the Reformation as the Saxon was, and
having been fitted for a special purpose, he accomplished it,
and passed away. When the Spring has warmed the earth,
and budded the rose tree, its office is done ; it flits away on
its odor wings, and Summer comes to open the painted pe-
tals, and give to us the full blown rose. But shall we forget
the Spring? Shall we retain no remembrance of the gentle
warmth that persuaded away the uncouth ice, and called out
the timid herbage from the caves, to which the hoarse voice
of Winter had frightened it, and encouraged the sweet birds
to come back to us, and sing to us the coming of milder air
and brighter doings ? Erasmus was the Spring of the Re-
formation.

Let us listen to the voice of a papist. " Erasmus was the
man of his time. When he appeared, the human mind lay
dormant in a deep lethargy, from which it made no effort to
arise. Erasmus wished to rouse it; but calmly and without
violence. Scholasticism was then predominant in the con-
vent, under the shadow of Aristotle's great name. It requir-

228 ERASMUS.

ed a revolution to dethrone it, and Erasmus first attempted
it." Such was the condition of the world. Aristotle had
superseded the apostles ; asceticism, with its stagnation and
pestilence, had taken the place of the active and efficacious
ministry of the gospel. Priests were chattering Latin, and
crucifying Christ afresh in the mass, instead of expounding
the scriptures, and preaching Him as " once offered to bear
the sins of many." The scandals of monkery were such,
that they allowed ignorance, libertinism, arrogance and liter-
ary vanity, a hatred of improvement and an adherence to
prejudices, corpulency and hypocrisy, gluttony and supersti-
tion, all to be personified in a monk !" Such was monkery.
The pope Julius II. " who," according to the learned and
eloquent Jesuit, before quoted, " manoeuvred on horseback
with his glittering armor ; who marched, surrounded by sol-
diers and archers ; and who, instead of excommunicating his
enemies, buckled on his sword and cuirass to beat them like
a soldier," was in the papal chair, just vacated by Pius III.,
and by the monster Alexander VI., when Erasmus obtained
his doctorate at Rome ; and presently the same chair receiv-
ed the brilliant Leo X. who encouraged painters, poets, ar-
chitects, and scandalous traders in indulgencies ; but who
was so far from any regard for the religion of Christ, that
he endeavored to extinguish the out-gleamings of its revival,
by the blood of him who dared to blow up the flames of the
smouldering pile. He could fill Rome with poetry, flowers,
wine, and rejoicing at the exhumation of statues; but had
nothing but death-frost for the lips that would speak of the
mediation of Jesus, and the power of faith, rather than of
the glory of the marble Lucretia, or of the writhing Lao-
coon.

ERASMUS. 229

The saints had taken the place of the Mediator, the des-
tinies of men were committed to their hands, and the pray-
ers of the needy were poured into their ears.

" Quid actum est de Dominicano ?

Is, ut idem narrabat, implorata ope divorum, abjectis ves-
tibus, commisit se nudum natationi.

Quos divos invocabat ?

Dominicum, Thomam, Vincentium, sed confidebat im-
primis Catharinae Lenensi.

Christus non veniebat illi in mentem ?

Ita sacrificus narrabat."

The darkness of the church's night was thick, and it drew
near to the dawning of the lingering day. Cold winter
reigned. Abroad, the eye saw snows, and leafless forrests.
An evergreen stood here and there, rendering the general
desolation more marked and terrible. The few flowers and
plants that lived and bloomed, were in pots, abducted from
the frosty air, and protected with care from the unsparing
influence of the season. Sometimes in a convent, occasion-
ally in episcopal palaces, in the hut of the peasant, at a uni-
versity, or the house of the burgher, the plants of the Lord
were preserved. But the Spring was near. The time had
come. Erasmus poured his beams upon the gloom, which
retired slowly, until men began to see some glimpses of hu-
man rights, and religious privileges and duties : he diffused
the warmth of his genius, and the reign of Winter was
threatened, the icy sceptre presently melted away, and the
emancipated streams of thought murmured the first songs
of liberty. Mind was awake. The human heart grew
green with its reviving verdure. The Rose of Sharon push-
ed forth from its twigs the buds of promise. Was not this
much for one man to have accomplished ? Strip not, then,
14

230 ERASMUS.

the crown of freeman's gratitude from the brow of Eras-
mus.

That this great man had his infirmities, that they were
numerous, humiliating, not sufficiently guarded against, none
will deny. He was but a man. For the benefit of man-
kind, which is of more importance than the fame of any one
of the race, we will not even implore the grave to throw
over them its oblivious mantle. Let them be seen : not to
his shame, but to our instruction. What if he was timid,
over prudent, fearful of tumult and revenge ? It was best
for him to have been so. His very infirmities were of mo-
ment to the work assigned him. None other than a cautious,
mild, and timid scholar could have opened the dawn of the
Reformation. God never brings about his gracious designs
save in a slow, and gradual manner. Were the mid-day
effulgence to succeed midnight blackness in an instant, the
world would be blinded, not enlightened, cursed and not
blessed. The light comes tardily, increasing by little and
little, presently awakening the world from slumber, and call-
ing it forth to activity and enjoyment. The polished litera-
ture, the elegant wit, the exquisite raillery of Erasmus, ans-
wered the divine purpose ; and truth diffused itself through
the errors of the times in the most certain and beneficial
manner. If he had lifted up the veil from before the scan-
dalous practices of a sanctimonious celibacy, he could say
to the startled beholder, " Sunt homines, et erat humanus
lapsus !" He had never a desire to proceed to extremes.

Men, however, were more influenced by his pen than he
had anticipated. He had aroused them from their stupor,
but he had not troubled himself about what an awakened
world might do, with its eyes unsealed by slumber, and the
energies of its arm released from their drowsy chain. God

ERASMUS. 231

foresaw: God alone foresaw what disenthralled humanity
would attempt and achieve : and he knew also, that he who
had filed off the chain had neither courage nor ability to re-
unite the disparted link".

It was well for the Reformation that Erasmus was timid,
apprehensive of danger, slow to encounter an adversary.
" When he was in the culminating1 point of his glory and
talents," continues our Jesuit, "there was then but one arbi-
ter of public opinion, and that was Erasmus. One is aston-
ished to read in his correspondence, how popes and princes
besought him to undertake the defence of Catholicism, and
try his strength with Luther. To reward his courage, popes ^
spoke of plenary indigencies, and even of the Roman pur-
ple ; kings of brilliant titles." Te obsecro, atque obtestor,
Erasme, imo vero te orat atque obtestatur ecclesia, ut cum
hac hydria tandem congrediare. Aude tantum et orbis tibi
spondet victoriam." So wrote the bishop of London to the
hesitating champion of the papacy. " The report was at
length circulated through Europe, that the philosopher was
about to write against the new doctrines. Erasmus asked of
the pope's Nuncio permission to read Luther's writings, and
a brief was obtained to that effect. The Catholics raised a
shout of exultation. Erasmus was complimented on his fu-
ture triumphs ; his glory and his magnanimity were chaunted
in prose and poetry."

Of all the champions of Rome, this was the only one who
could close in combat with the Augustinian monk, with any
prospect of escape from his muscular and powerful arm
The pride of learning, popery, and despotism ; armed by
the superstition and terrors of a deceived and infuriated
church; cheered on by the plaudits and promises of earth's
greatest dignitaries, with the advantage of all his unequalled

232 ERASMUS.

fame and influence ; what had he to fear from an anathema-
tised and off-cast heretic, a man cursed of the Holy Pontiff,
the omnipotent Vicar of Christ, and hateful to the haughty
representative of the Caesars! Could Luther have hoped
for escape with such odds against him ? A lone monk, sin-
gle handed, among whose friends were feehle hearts, and
weaponless hands, to mefct the giant of the times, having the
vantage ground, and seconded by all the potentates of Chris-
tendom; what could have saved him from defeat and ruin?
But with all this superiority, Erasmus hesitated ; his cour-
age was insufficient; he delayed his attack ; Luther had time
, 4£ to fill all Germany with his popular literature; he gained the
hearts of the common people ; fortified himself at his leis-
ure; and when at length, Erasmus advanced to the encoun-
ter, his blows fell on Luther as the breeze smites against the
Alps ; and the world resounded with laughter at his imbecil-
ity. The Hyperaspites was but a viper, whose hissings
were hushed in its harmless throat by a blow of ridicule.

If Erasmus was not courageous enough to help on with
the Reformation, neither had he sufficient bravery to check
its progress. He dreaded revolution. It was easy for such a
mind to foresee the agitations, divisions, and troubles which a
thorough reformation would bring about. He knew, that
when reformers should have succeeded against the pope, it
would be difficult to discriminate between liberty and licen-
tiousness, and that the same principle which should strike
down the tiara, would uncrown the head of despotism ; and
what would be the end of the liberation of intellect and con-
science was more than he could calculate, far more than he
was willing to hazard. It occupied his observation, that
such are social laws, that all social indolence and iniquity
must occasion social ill and punishment ; and therefore, as

ERASMUS. 233

Christendom had allowed the errors and vices of popery to
possess the dominion of Christ and piety, it well merited the
scourging of a reformation. Was it not strange that he
could not understand, that stagnant putrid water is more of-
fensive and deadly than that which is fumed up into vapor,
and accumulated into the dark, rushing thunder-cloud, whose
roar shakes the astonished welkin, and whose lightnings
shiver the cedars of Lebanon, or strike into the dust the
habitations of man? The storm-stirred air is the more salu-
brious. The pestilent lake of stagnant papacy had filled
Christendom with Malaria ; piety shivered under the chill
of the endemic ; and a feverish superstition wasted away
enfeebled charity by its slow, consuming fires. Humanity
cast its drooping eye toward heaven. It was filled with the
vapors generated by the Reformation. The clouds were
thickening; muttering thunder alarmed the apprehensive;
the glare of the lightning was terrible. On rushed the tem-
pest! **#*##

Could Erasmus come forth now from the tomb, which
Basle gave him in its solemn cathedral, he would find the
world in better health, and he would have but little dread of
the cloud which seems to be gathering again, portentous of
another storm. But he cannot rise from his cold and dream-
less pillow. His ear, senseless alike to the reproaches of
enemies, or the praises of friends, shall hear nothing until
the clangor of the last trump shall break the long silence of
his sepulchre. Then shall he come forth, and behold how
the tangled mysteries of time will look in the light of eter-
nity. With amazement will the greatest scholar of his day
see that he knew nothing ; that he was but an instrument of
Providence ; that his weaknesses as well as his strength
subserved the purpose divine ; and that it was far better that

234 ERASMUS.

he had to endure the loss of intellectual supremacy, and to
die in neglect ; than that he had been permitted to extin-
guish a light which has shed liberty and joy into so many
hearts, and which yet burns so brightly in the moral firma-
ment.

It was well for the world that this great man lived when
he did, and was what he was. God's ways are right. Pity-
ing our wretched race, he devises and executes his benefi-
cent purposes according to his own unerring wisdom. Were
the reformers dissatisfied that the splendid Desiderius, for
so was he also called, was fickle, and frightened from their
ranks? Behold the wisdom of God! This reed was taken
from the hand of his own cause, and put into the clutching
hand of the papacy. What then? Rome leaned on it, and
it broke ! If Erasmus had been true to the Reform, he
could not have been selected the champion of popery. But
he obtained the election ; the hosts of Rome stood still in
the confidence of his easy and speedy triumph-, Luther had
time to do his appointed work, and the Bible went forth
again to instruct and save mankind. So wise is God !

o

n

*a

LUTHER BURNING THE POPE'S BULL.

BY A. A. MULLER, D. D.

"On the 10th December, A. D. 1520, a placard was af-
fixed to the walls of the University of Wittenberg. It con-
tained an invitation to the profe?sors and students to repair
at the hour of nine in the morning to the East gate beside the
Holy Cross. A scaffold had already been erected. One of
the oldest among the Masters of Arts soon set fire to it. As
the flames arose Luther drew nigh, and cast into the midst
of them the Canon law, the Decretals, the Clementines, the
Extravagants of the popes, &c. When these books had been
reduced to ashes, Luther took the Pope's Bull in his hand,
held it up and said aloud ' since thou hast afflicted the Lord's
Holy One, may fire unquenchable afflict and consume thee P
and thereupon he threw it into the flames." — D'Aubigne's
Hist, of Refor.

'Twas morn at Wittenberg — December's sky

Threw it's dim veil along the mountain's side :

A thousand vapours from the waveless stream

Wreath'd forth in graceful majesty their forms ;

And towering far above the huge grey rocks,

Mingled their shadows in the far-off clouds.

The morning sun yet struggling through the dews

That veil'd his radiance from the frozen earth,

Seem'd like some lurid globe of fire, pent up

In misty clouds, where ever and anon,

His shafts of light, pierc'd through each opening arch,

238 LUTHER BURNING THE POPE's BULL.

Where the blue heavens received his orient glance,

And hail'd him victor of the rising morn !

That sun hath brought to thee, fam'd Wittenberg,

City of scholars, and yet blest with all

That wisdom, worth and virtue can bestow,

A day of triumph for thy Saxon name.

A mighty mind rich with the spoils of lore,

Firm in its purpose and by truth sustained,

Hath mark'd th' auspicious hour and mandate giv'n,

T' efface the symbol of a tyrant's power,

And in that liberty decreed by heav'n,

To own no sovereign but the King of kings.

And see beside the eastern gate, the throng

Have gather'd, in bright array there comes

The lengthen'd train of scholars, priests, and men,

Wending their footsteps towards the Holy Cross.

And who is he the foremost of the train,

Clad in the monkish vestments of his day ?

Firm in his footstep — noble in his mien :

With lofty spirit dwelling in his breast,

To do and suffer all that duty brings ;

And with uplifted eye to yonder world

Intent upon the prize he longs to win.

Ah ! who among thy sons that round him press'd

Fair Germany, but knew and hail'd him, " first

In the true hearts" of all who sway'd thy land,

Or breath'd the air, which made thy children free.

Within that hand that shook St. Peter's throne,

And with the " Spirit's sword" unbound the chains

Which ignorance and tyranny had forg'd,

He clasps that stern decree of Roman power,

The dark proscription of a noble mind,

Which doom'd him with the curse of priestly wrath.

LUTHER BURNING THE POPE'S BULL. 239

Enlighten'd, generous, sanctified and pure :

Deeply intent on sacred things ; he burn'd

With fire of seraph in his Master's cause.

To publish freedom to th' imprison'd soul,

And spread salvation to a darken'd world.

Behold the lighted torch, upborne by hands

Of gifted masters, skill'd in ancient lore,

Hath touch'd the pile, while quick ascends the fire

Of sacrificial retribution.

The winds of heaven seem'd swift upon their wings

To swell aloft the willing flame, eager

To bear away from earth all traces

Of so foul a blot upon the christian cause.

And bow the great Reformer foremost comes
With hands uplifted in his Master's name :
His strong appeals with truth and duty join'd
Seem'd in the language of a soul sublime
To reach and open heaven. While from the
Silent throng there seem'd to breathe no life, so
Deep the feeling and so fix'd the scene.
At length from out his sable robe he drew
The roll of parchment, Canon Laws, Decrees,
And various writings, and with purpose firm
Quickly consigned them to the blazing pile.
Next came the instrument of Leo's hate,
Cloth'd with those emblems of the triple crown
To whose authority the world must bow.
The apostolic Luther fir'd with zeal,
Glanc'd his keen eye upon its gorgeous page,
And fix'd in purpose for the cause of God,
Rais'd in his hand the glaring scroll, and thus
Apostrophiz'd it: ■ Thou who hast sadly
Griev'd the Holy One of heaven, may fire
Unquenchable afflict thee and destroy."

240 LUTHER BURNING THE POPE S BULL.

Then to the ready flame he quick consign'd
This proud memorial of a tyrant's power —
The curse of nations — and the scorn of God.
There was a shout that rent the air from the
Vast multitude that gaz'd around, as from
The lighted pile, the perfum'd incense rose
From the pure virgin wax of Rome; dissolv'd
From consecrated seals no longer fear'd !

The echo from that shout has long since died !—

The hearts that there beat high are cold in earth ;

And he who fram'd that sacrifice and fann'd

The flame that warm'd and rous'd all Germany,

Hath pass'd from life to immortality ;

And centuries have pass'd since that bright morn,

When through the eastern gate the people throng' d

Around th' Augustine scholar at the cross :

Yet holy Wittenberg, thy towers remain !

And in thy hallow'd walls, the spirit breathes

And lives of him whose fame can never die.

The Bible still supports the Saxon throne —

And there are hearts in this and other lands

Still true to the Reformer's faith and truth.

"The heavens and earth shall pass away" and thrones

Shall crumble into sad and dark, decay :

Kingdoms shall fade, and nature droop and die —

But the pure Word of God shall stand unmov'd ;

And He who spread its truths, before the world,

Shall shine amid the stars of yonder world

With light ineffable — and glory crown' d !

CASTLE OF WARTBURG,

BY CHARLES A. HAY.

Eisenach, Germany, May 15th, 1S43-

My Dear Friend :

You request of me a sketch of one of the numerous places
in Germany that are memorable on account of their connec-
tion with the history of Luther. A grateful task, difficult
only in the selection of the spot to be described. All Ger-
many is full of the traces of that remarkable man. Wher-
ever you go, mementos of himself and the eventful history of
his day meet your eyes. Eisleben, the place of his birth ;
Erfurt, of his student monastic life ; Wittenberg, of his pro-
fessional career, of his first reformative acts, of his burial ;
all these I had twice visited, but they are already so familiar
to you, that it seemed necessary for me to look about for
some other place equally important with them in his history,
possessing some interest in itself, and less frequently de-
scribed. And here you find me now, within sight of the
Wartburg castle, Luther's prison, (or his Patmos, as he was
wont to call it,) which a remarkable dispensation of Provi-
dence, by which that man of God was snatched from the
grasp of embittered foes and preserved in honorable and use-
ful retirement until called again into the open field of com-
bat, has consecrated as one of the holiest and most Venera-
ble spots to which the history of our church points the in-
quiring traveller.

242 CASTLE OF WARTBURG.

A leaf from my journal will no doubt please you more
than a stiff and formal description. Here it is :

About seven o'clock last evening I came in sight of the
Wartburg, and at eight reached Eisenach, that lies at the
foot of the hill upon which the castle stands. This was a
tiresome day, for I had made a long circuit from Gotha
around through one of the prettiest parts of the Thuringian
forest, in order to visit the celebrated school of M. Salzmann,
the chateau of Reinhardsbrunn (a fine edifice, in old Gothic
style, the favorite summer residence of the duke of Saxe-
Coburg-Gotha,) and the Gypsumquarry of the Inselberg.
It was still light enough, when I had mounted the merciless
three pair of stairs and sat me down in a neatly furnished
room of the Reuterkranz hotel, to enjoy the fine view that
ray window affords. It overlooks the spacious market-place
with its quaintly gabled, oriel-windowed houses, its old foun-
tain, surmounted by St. George and the dragon, freshly gilt,
and its venerable dome, stripped of its tower and buried
among a grove of elms. Immediately behind the town rises
a steep hill well cultivated, chequered over with thriv-
ing hedges and sprinkled with clumps of birch and pine.
Higher still, on the summit of the distant hill that bounds
our view, stands the castle itself, frowning down in silence
upon us. Oh, how richly this repays the tiresome walk !

Tuesday, 16. A delightful morning. Come, we must lose
no time, but be off at once for the castle. What a new-r
looking place this Eisenach is ! strange how one is often dis-
appointed in finding the reality so totally different from the
picture his fancy had painted ; and when he has been thus
repeatedly chagrined, he is apt to lose nearly all desire for
visiting the spots of cherished memory, lest the charm that
has always hung over them, be ruthlessly broken. Now

CASTLE OF WARTBURG. 243

Eisenach — to say nothing of its name, which smells of rusty
iron — as the prison place of Luther and the ancient capital
of Thuringia, had always presented itself to me as one of
the dullest and gloomiest places to be found in all Germany.
But a neater, more cleanly and thriving town you can scarce-
ly find — begging Uncle Sam's pardon, of course, or perhaps
even this is unnecessary, for no man in his senses would think
of comparing the towns of Germany with those of the Uni-
ted States, in this respect. — Old forms are all that speak of
former days ; whitewash and paint have banished moss and
cobwebs, and plenty of sparkling fountains give an air of
freshness to the town and add to its cleanliness and beauty.
But here we are already at its outskirts, with the first of the
above mentioned hills before us.

Are you now really so anxious to mount at once to the
castle, or will you turn aside with me for a moment into this
charming cemetery whose open gate invites us to enter?
What ! you startle at the crosses ! That will never do ;
away with your prejudices! Is not the cross as suitable a
monument for a Protestant's as for a papist's grave ? I love
the cross ! It was the christian's sign long before the papal
church had a being ; and all the abuses, to which this holy
symbol was subjected during that gloomy period when pa-
pacy was triumphing in drunken success, cannot induce me
to love it the less, now, when the monster, driven from his
stronghold in the old world, is staggering to meet his death
in the new. I do love the cross ; and if ever I mark the
spot where the ashes of my bosom friend repose, his grave
shall be surmounted with a cross.

How touching the care that is bestowed upon these graves !
The hand of the loved one still lingers fondly about the spot
where the departed lies and decks it with garlands and the

244 CASTLE OF WARTBURG.

choicest flowers. Good Friday, that day of gloom, strips
the crosses and all the monuments of their faded wreaths
and an air of nakedness and desolation is suddenly spread
over this charming spot. But Easter morning sees it clothed
anew with their places supplied by fresh and blooming
proofs of the continued affection of those left behind as well
as of their faith in Him who sanctified this day by his tri-
umph over death and the grave. Is not this a beautiful cus-
tom ? There is another touching monument ; a simple iron
cross, hexagonal, planted upon a moss-covered rock that has
been rolled upon the grave. The only words upon it are,
" Wir werden uns wieder sehen. John 16 : 22." How differ-
ent now the effect produced by that princely monument close
at hand. It is a huge flower-basket of cast-iron, two feet by
six, mounted on an eliptical platform of sandstone that can
be reached by a flight of steps in front. Ivy twines through
the iron net-work and pompous heraldry glitters through its
leaves. Away with such trumpery from the simple " court
of peace," (Friedhof.) Death at least should teach us that
we are all of one blood, and the only distinction that should
here be marked might be " here lies an humble, faithful ser-
vant of the Lord."

This neat building near the gate is the dead house, where
rich and poor are alike exposed for forty-eight hours. They
are laid in a loose sheet upon a basket of straw with rings
on their fingers that communicate by a delicate apparatus
with a bell in the outer passage. Should the person be but
apparently dead and make the slightest motion, the bell at
once gives notice to the family that lives in the other end of
the house and medical aid is immediately procured.

CASTLE OF WARTBURG. 245

At the foot of the hill stood two lads with donkeys, anx-
ious for employment. As I had never yet tried this mode of
mounting a steep, although opportunity had often been given,
and as my feet were still complaining of the previous day's
hard usage, I consented to be carried up to the castle on the
back of a beast that seemed to need carrying about as much
as myself, and which I could have carried, too, with nearly
as much ease as he carried me. They put me on the old
one, " who," said the drivers, " is very surefooted, but more
than proverbially stubborn, and will decidedly not go, unless
he has the company of another." So off we started, I on
a lady's saddle, for the gentleman's was already in use, and
a lad on a young long-ears, who was to be sure lazy enough
by nature, but still seemed quite moveable, as he had not yet
learned the bad habits of his ancestor who carried me. As
we mount, the town sinks and the valley opens out behind
us. Now, upon the summit of the first hill, we halt a mo-
ment to enjoy the scene. There is nothing grand about it,
but it fascinates by the air of quiet peacefulness that breathes
over the whole. " Forwards, my boy, a higher point can
but improve this view." All this while the donkey's head
and rein had been turned in different directions, for I was
feasting on the prospect that opened to our view in the val-
ley we were leaving. But now our path gently descended,
and the summit we had just passed concealed the town, so
that I had to wheel round into a line with his honor's ears,
and O ! the Wartburg ! burst from my lips as the fine old
castle, crowning the rocky peak before us, rose into view.
Here we now advance between a dark pine grove that
clothes a steep hill from our view, and a partly cleared and
cultivated glen upon our left. Of the castle, high above us,

246 CASTLE OF WARTBURG.

we see but a single tower, built on a beetling bastion tbat
overhangs the steep before us. Our path now begins to wind
upon this abrupt ascent, and climbing around to the other
side of the hill, opens a pretty view into the Marienthal which
had hitherto been entirely hid from us. Some years ago the
Grandduchess Maria of Weimar paid a visit to the Wart-
burg and spent some time in this vicinity, which so pleased
the good folks of Eisenach, that they carved a gigantic M
on a bold face of rock that stands out from the hill-side op-
posite the castle, and gave to the whole valley the name
Marienthal. Fish ponds and smiling gardens deck its bosom,
villas and hamlets its fertile slopes. Mounting still, and
growing impatient to be there. " Do you see the monk and
the nun ?" says my lad of the sprightly donkey. " No."
" Those rocks, I mean, over there among the trees," point-
ing at the same time to a cluster of tall cliffs standing per-
pendicularly amid the birch and pine trees of the densely
wooded peak that lay to our right as we commenced the
ascent, but which was now below us. " There a monk and
a nun once met and kissed each other, for which crime they
were transformed into stone." Rather a tough story, but
the rocks upon which it is based certainly do very naturally
form the foundation for some such fable. Now we have
reached the summit, and stand fronting the castle. We
pass over a rude causeway of stone, that has taken the place
of the old draw-bridge, now under and through the massive
tower, upon which our eyes have so often been fixed ; and
now we enter the wart, the narrow summit of the hill around
which the castle is built. How small! certainly not more
than seventy-five feet long, by thirty wide. But this is quite
in character, for just such nests as this, with steep declivi-

CASTLE OF WARTBURG. 247

ties on all sides, the robber-knights of those dark ages de-
lighted to perch upon. But stranger still is the apparent
newness of most of the buildings. Nearly all seem but two
or three hundred years old, and yet the castle dates from the
time of Lewis the Leaper, A. D. 1067. Ah, there is a fine
old remnant, the heavy mass of masonry through which we
entered. Over one of its doors a singular semi-circular
stone is set into the wall.. It represents a griffin (the symbol
of watchfulness) in the act of devouring a news-bearer (a
traitor in disguise,) whose head and arms and letter-bag still
dangle from its capacious jaws. We wish you a good appe-
tite, old Mr. Griffin, and successful digestion for your leath-
ery lunch, whilst we step into the " traveller's room" and
prepare ourselves, by a portion of rye bread and butter,
neatly spread with sausage, and washed down with a mug of
fresh mountain water, for a further inspection of the pre-
cincts you have so long and so faithfully guarded.

But first of all, let us enjoy this charming prospect. Here
we sit, by a window of the Wartburg, in the heart of Thur-
ingia and look out upon a view so sweet and smiling, that,
had we here nothing else to see, this alone would richly re-
pay us for the time and trouble of the ascent, that is, for our
time and the donkey's trouble. This hill is one of the high-
est of the range and commands a tolerably extensive view.
But all beyond the neighboring vallies, and the hills that en-
close them, is dull and uninteresting. The distant ridges
that bound our view are bare and dead ; in very fine weath-
er, indeed, the Brocken, the spell-bound sovereign of the
Harz, is to be seen, but clouds now conceal him from us.
The less attractive then, the distant scenery is, the more
fully can we give ourselves up to the contemplation of that
which lies at our feet. Down in the blooming valley, just
15

248 CASTLE OF WARTBURG.

over the first hill we climbed, lies Eisenach. You hear no
hum of business, no .puffing of steam, no clanking* of ham-
mers ; all is peaceful and still. No heavy veil of smoke
dims the outlines and casts a shade of gloom over the whole;
but sharp and clear the antique forms stand out boldly to the
view, and leave upon the mind a deep and well defined im-
pression that years cannot remove. The Marienthal sweeps
around upon the right, shut in by its line of hills still partly
covered with remains of the celebrated Thuringian forest.
On the left rises abruptly the wooded and rocky peak that
bears the monk and nun, which we see to most advantage
from this position. The dark groves there are sighing and
waving before the breeze of an approaching storm. How
pleasing is the contrast between these and the valley beyond.
The bright yellow patches of flowery rape-seed, mingled
with fields of springing grain, form a variegated and brilliant
back-ground to the picture. And there comes the sparkling
Werra, too, winding through the vale and giving animation
to the landscape. Immediately below our window the bas-
tion we had seen from below juts out over the valley; a sen-
tinel is pacing to and fro upon it, apparently suffering for the
want of something to do ; hard by stands his sentry-box,
and on a cliff by its side are ranged five cannon that serve
to alarm the neighborhood in case of a fire.

But how the wind rages, and what a fearful gloom is gath-
ering around us ! Half-way between the clouds and the val-
ley, we are being shut out from the world below. The
sheets of rain sweep wildly about the castle and fling a
gloomy pall upon the view; little remains now to be seen ex-
cept the bastion, the sentry and the cannon.

Now is the time for the castle halls. Come along; this
unearthly gloom will deepen their sombre here and aid us in

CASTLE OF WARTBURO. 249

calling- up right vividly those days of dark and dismal mem-
ory. First we cross the court and are led along a corridor
that commands a distant view over the Thuringian forest to
the west of the castle. The row of double pillars that form
the colonnade are of the byzantine style of architecture, in
its best days, about the close of the eleventh century. But
few of the original ones remain, enough however, to serve
as patterns for the rest which have lately been carved and
set up at the expense of the Grand Duke of Weimar, to
whom the castle now belongs and who is restoring it as far
as possible, to its original grandeur. Next we enter the
chapel where Luther preached during his sojourn here. It
is small, perhaps twenty feet square, and not more than
twelve feet high. A romanesque column stands in the mid-
dle of the floor from which arches spring in all directions to
the walls. On a sort of low gallery are the seats once used
by the Landgrave's family ; rough benches around the walls
served for the domestics. The window that looks south-
ward is divided by an interesting double column with fanci-
ful capitals. The other that fronts upon the Marienthal is
early Gothic. The pulpit is rudely carved and of no partic-
ular interest. One picture still graces the walls. It repre-
sents the holy Elizabeth, wife of Landgrave Hermann I.,
who was celebrated for her kindness to the poor. Various
miracles are ascribed to her, and she was canonized shortly
after her death. Her tomb lies in the church built to her
memory, and named after her in Marburg. It is said that
the stone steps to it are worn hollow by the knees of thous-
ands of pilgrims who, for six hundred years, have been wan-
dering to her grave to be healed by touching her splendidly
jewelled coffin. This picture embraced a number of dis-
tinct scenes, and St. Elizabeth appears in half a dozen dif-

250 CASTLE OF WARTBURG.

ferent characters, but always performing some act of benev-
olence or mercy. The scene in the centre represents the
principal miracle which is ascribed to her, and you will be
surprized to learn that it was wrought to conceal a false-
hood ! Another instance, this, of the care then already ta-
ken to distil into the minds of the common folks the impor-
tant doctrine that " the end justifies the means." A pesti-
lence, namely, raged in the valley below, and Elizabeth
found frequent opportunity to exercise her benevolence in
waiting upon the suffering poor and supplying them with
nourishment and medicine. Hermann forbade her thus to
expose herself and tried to confine her to the castle. One
day, as he was returning from the chase, he met her descend-
ing the hill with a basket of provisions upon her arm. " Now
what have you there again," said he, angrily seizing her. " My
lord, roses !" was her meek reply. He threw aside the cov-
er of her basket, and lo ! the bread had been suddenly trans-
formed into roses ! ! I might give you a whole list of such
stories. And it was before people, to whom all these tales
were of equal authority with gospel truth, that Luther here
preached ! A cold shudder even now creeps over me as I
think how awfully severe must have been the trial through
which he had to pass in bursting all these bands in which he
had himself been bound.

Once more we pass through the old corridor. Here to
the right is the spacious hall, now disfigured by a low false
ceiling and heaps of rubbish, in which, in the days of Her-
mann, A. D. 1200, the famous contests of the Minnesangers
(the northern troubadours) were held. This too, through the
munificence of the duke, will soon be restored to its original
state.

CASTLE OF WARTBURG. 251

We pass on to a large room containing tattered standards,
spears, coats of mail, mounted carabines and clumsy fire-
arms with wheel and matchlocks, all from the Thirty Years'
War. On one of the walls hangs a good picture, portrait of
a Thuringian Landgrave, which one it was, my guide cannot
tell. Beneath it stands a large table, said to date from the
earliest days of the castle, consisting of a heavy frame-work
of wood enclosing a remarkably large stone tablet. An im-
mense buffalo horn and the horn of a rhinoceros lay upon it.

We next ascend a flight of stairs and enter a plain room
containing only a few pictures that hang around the walls.
They are all new. One of them represents a contest of the
Minnesangers. Heinrich von Ofterdingen had been vanquish-
ed and was condemned to pay the forfeit that had been
staked, namely, his own life. The executioner had already
been called to stand in one corner of the hall. But one of
the princesses insists upon allowing the vanquished one an-
other trial. It is granted, and Peter Alp, his rival, now loses
the day. The moment is seized when Alp, furious at his
defeat is storming at Ofterdingen, who has cast himself, in
humble gratitude, at the feet of the princess. Hermann sits
upon his throne, and the other Minnesangers, Henrich von
Waldeck, (a knight,) Walter von der Vogelweide, Wolffram
von Eisenach, and Reinhard von Zwetzen, are interested ob-
servers of the scene. Another painting shows us St. Eliza-
beth distributing bread to the poor.

The next small room, finished in modern style and hung
with crimson curtains, contains a likeness of the duke, the
strangers' book, into which all visiters are requested to in-
scribe their names, and some trifles, such as pipe-heads,
cigar-cases, canes, &c, for sale at exorbitant prices.

252 CASTLE OF WARTBURG.

The armory ! Here we are at once thrown back into the
days of romance and chivalry. See ! Here is old Lewis
the Leaper (called so from the feat he performed near Halle,
where he leaped from a window of the Giebichenstein cas-
tle, sixty feet, into the river Loah below) clad in steel from
top to toe, mounted upon a noble charger, mailed like his
master and apparently proud of the load he bears. Right
before us, by that pillar, stands the complete armor of Kunz
of Kaufungen, a giant robber knight, who stole away the
three princes whose coats of mail stand there behind him.
And here, the splendid suit of Henry II. of France, one of
the most costly that ever was made, richly gilt and of the
most exquisite workmanship. And this scaly shirt of little
iron plates so artfully and compactly woven together, that I
quite believe the assertions of the guide that it is bullet-
proof. What fearful weapons are these that hang upon the
walls ! Two-handed, double-edged swords, with waving
blades six feet long. After the fourteenth century these
were no longer used in battle, but merely for purposes of
parade on great occasions. And thus they are sometimes
used even now. What dreadful blows must have been dealt
with these heavy iron maces, and with these beaked ham-
mers that were used in close fight for perforating helmet and
skull. Those were bloody days. Thanks to him that in-
vented gunpowder and put an end to the horrid butchery of
ancient warfare! And there stands the armor of Pope Juli-
us II., rather soldier-like for a priest — there, that of Fred-
erick with the bitten cheek, so called, says Murray's Hand-
book, " because his mother, in the auguish of parting from
him when a child, bit his cheek till the blood came." My
guide called him Friederick der Unartige (the rude,) and as-
cribed the bite in his cheek to his pretty cousin whom he

CASTLE OF WARTBURG. 253

was trying to kiss. This worn and tattered dress dates from
the thirty years' war ; it must have been splendid in its day.
The ponderous boots with heels four inches high ; the care-
fully wrought mail-shirt, the crimson velvet hose; the abund-
ance of gold and silver lace ; the fine linen, and all, must
have proudly decked some noble champion in that glorious
war.

How can we leave this interesting hall ? Not hours, but
days should be allotted us for such scenes as this. But we
have already trespassed too long upon the patience of our
guide, who is not accustomed to such tedious visiters. Lead
us then, you personified impatience, to the last of the lions
of the Wartburg, Luther's room.

To reach this, we find it necessary to recross the court
and enter the inhabited part of the castle. And is this really
the place? This small, gloomy chamber! Was it between
these rude partitions, now worm-eaten and crumbling to de-
cay, that that master-mind submitted to be kept during those
stirring days, when the work of the Reformation falling into
the hands of misguided and infatuated men, seemed tottering
to its fall ! Great Luther! Greater in your self-denial and
voluntary imprisonment than martial heroes leading on a tri-
umph. But the room. Did one expect to find anything here
remarkably interesting in itself, he would be mistaken. The
awkwardly made table, more fit for a butcher's block than
an author's desk, still stands in its old position near the win-
dow. A little to the right of it, on the strip of plastered
wall against which the old earthen stove is built, is still
shown the spot where the ink-stand stuck when Luther
threw it at the devil. Its passage through his majesty's
darkness, supposing of course that Luther took good aim,
seems not to have much broken its impetus, for it has knock-

254 CASTLE OF WARTBURG.

ed off two hand breadths of plaster from the wall and black-
ened the stones beneath. The old book-case too, with its
large round-headed nails and heavy hinges, has been left in
its place. But of all else the chamber is bare, excepting a
few portraits upon the walls and Luther's much-worn foot-
stool, which is one of the vertebrae of a whale.

Shall I tell you, in a few words, the story of Luther's
captivity here ?

He had been at Worms, and had there confounded his
shameless accusers before the face of the Emperor himself.
Thunderstruck, they had not yet recovered from their unex-
pected discomfiture, when, under protection of a safe conduct
of the Emperor, Luther sat out from Worms to return to the
discharge of his professional duties at Wittenberg. No
sooner, however, had he left, than the Emperor published a
severe edict, commanding all to sieze and deliver him up.
Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony, whose subject Lu-
ther was, had been delighted with his defence of himself at
the Diet, and resolved at once to protect him. Terrified by
this edict, and seeing that he would have the whole empire
upon him if he openly asserted Luther's cause, he meditated
a plan by which a respite could be gained and the farther
development of this remarkable revolution quietly awaited.
Luther had now dismissed the imperial herald Von Oppen-
heim, and, under protection of the Landgrave of Hessen,
travelled on towards the Harz. Here he was informed of
the Elector's plans, to which he at length consented. On
the 4th of May, 1521, as he was about entering a forest that
lay between him and Waltershausen his intended night-quar-
ters, he sent on his two companions in advance, to engage
lodgings. Passing through this wood he came into a ravine
near Altenstein. Here two knights, with two servants

CASTLE OF WARTBURG. 255

rushed out upon him, stopped his coach, seized Luther with
apparent violence, drove off his coachman, dressed Luther
in riding clothes and gave him a horse, bound one of their
servants upon another horse, that they might seem to be
carrying off a prisoner, and then set off on the highway to-
wards Eisenach. When it grew dark they struck off into
the woods and about midnight reached the Wartburg castle.
Here Luther lived as a young nobleman, under the name of
Junker Georg (Squire George,) with sword and spurs and
fierce mustachios. He seldom left his room, but spent his
time in hard study. On festival days he preached to the
castle-folk. But this close confinement injured his health
and his friends found it necessary to drag him along to the
chase; and sometimes he used to hunt strawberries on the
hill behind the castle. They gave him a sworn servant who
grew quite intimate with him and occasionally proved very
useful. His greatest trouble with Luther was to keep him
from betraying his true character by laying aside his sword
and running after books in the taverns they stopped at during
the chase. In this disguise he visited several monasteries in
the neighborhood. He was always thinking of Wittenberg;
and burst out once, as he sat, absorbed in thought, at a crow-
ded table, " O ! were I only at Wittenberg !"" and to Witten-
berg he went too, in his disguise and privately to his friend
Nicolas Amsdorf, who had accompanied him to Worms.
There he saw and consulted some of his friends but returned
again to the Wartburg, where he remained until March 6th,
1522. Unable any longer to resist the calls of his church
at Wittenberg, he resolved to cast himself once more into
their midst, in spite of imperial laws and papal bulls, and at
the risk of offending his protector and patron. To the latter
he wrote that his church was imploring him to come, and

256 CASTLE OF WARTBURG.

this call his conscience did not allow him to disregard — he
was ready to lay down his life for the cause — his presence
at Wittenberg was absolutely necessary — he did not despise
authority or wish to disturb the country ; but, as the servant
of the eternal Son of God, he must preach his true gospel,
and He has still so much power as to protect a preacher to-
gether with his temporal lord against the gates of hell.

Much more was gained by this detention of Luther in a
place of quiet retirement than was anticipated by his noble
patron. You have often heard it said that he here found
time for the translation of the New Testament and a consid-
erable part of the Old, for the writing of his invaluable
Haus Postille and some more less important books; but have
you ever thought of the salutary influence this captivity ex-
erted upon the formation of his own character and views ?
When placed here by the Elector his feelings were in a state
of the most violent fermentation, his opinions on many very
important subjects not yet fully formed. You remember how
much his Essay on the Babylonish Captivity and his Sermon
on the Sacraments, written shortly before his visit to Worms,
incline to a one-sided carrying out of the Protestant princi-
ple of " Faith alone necessary." He was in a fair way of
running to the dangerous extreme that there is absolutely no
need of any external means. He had nearly approached the
position that Zwingli afterwards assumed, and with his fiery
genius, would probably have far overleaped these bounds,
had not this providential interference brought him to reflect.
And whilst he Avas here engaged in the prayerful study of
the Word of God and making a conscientious use of those
means, by which he hoped to arrive at clear and positive
knowledge in regard to the momentous questions that were
convulsing the church, tares were abundantly scattered

CASTLE OF WARTBURG. 25?

among the good seed he had sown ; and his honest soul was
torn with anguish at seeing how the evil one was rioting in
the fair field of God. Cailstadt and his fanatic crew, hoist-
ing the banner of " Luther and Reform," were demolishing
indiscriminately everything that the church had regarded as
holy. " Down with the crucifixes ! Down with the pic-
tures! Away with schools ! Away with liberal arts ! No
public honors ! No titles !" And from another side came the
bloodthirsty cry of Thomas Munster and his boorish throng.
" Down with the rulers ! Universal equality ! Agrarian
liberty !" It is only when we bears in mind all this, that we
can appreciate the difficulty of Luther's position and the
value of that giant strength of mind, that enabled him to
grasp so firmly and defend so triumphantly the banner of
gospel truth amid such a chaos of political and religious con-
fusion. * * * *

The guide caught me musing again, and shrugged his
shoulders very significantly as he glanced towards the open-
ed door. Yes, my poor fellow, this room has grown dull to
you, and I shall not imprison you in it much longer. But I
have a friend in America who is fond of mementoes of the
Reformation, and I must gratify him with something that
comes from Luther's room, on the Wartburg. So thinking,
I planted my foot on the whale's backbone, tore a leaf from
my note-book, and leaning upon the consecrated table, wrote
for you, " Yunker Georg, Edler Glaubensheld ! sei mir ge-
griisst!"

LUTHER.

Erasmus Alberus says, no man could pray more fer-
vently; no man was a better comforter; no man was a better
preacher than Luther. He was a man without guile. He
was a terror to liars and equivocators. He loved integrity
and hated pride. He abhorred intemperance and licentious-
ness, and never betrayed any violence of temper, except it
was in contest with papists and fanatics.

Varillas, his bitter enemy, says: "Nature seems to have
placed on his German body an Italian head, for he was dis-
tinguished for vivacity, industry, and robust health. No one
exceeded him in the study of philosophy and scholastic the-
ology. He was a rare genius, — his judgment penetrating,
and his memory most retentive.

Alexander, the pope's agent, who was sent to reclaim
Luther, is said to have disliked him " on account of the
soundness and purity of his morals." He is known to have
said, " it is impossible to soften Luther by money. He is a
brute, who will not look either to bribes or honors, other-
wise he might long ago have had many thousands paid him
at the banker's by the pope's orders'."

ffiutfter tKvmnlutiw the isflblc.

LUTHER TRANSLATING THE BIBLE

AT WARTBURG CASTLE.
BY A. A. MULLER, D. D.

In yonder battlements whose turrets grey,

Frown their dark shadows o'er Thuringia's way ;

Mid those crown' d heights and long deserted halls,

No curfew startles, and no footstep falls :

No busy voices on the evening air,

Bespeak the mirth, the revel and the jeer,

Where feudal vassalage and festal song,

Pour their full tide amid the banner'd throng !

All there is silent, save the sounds that come

From one lone voice within that guarded dome ;

Some wandering exile mid the twilight dim,

Chanting with hope his closing evening hymn,

E're yet in visions of unearthly rest,

His care worn spirit mingles with the blest !

Perchance th' imprison'd Swan1 there sweetly sings

His farewell song e're sleep shall fold his wings ;

In fond remembrance of that joyous time,

When youth and hope were round him in their prime !

The minstrelsy of German hearts is stirr'd !

Ah ! yes the mighty Saxon's voice is heard.

Borne on the bosom of the tranquil air,

In strains harmonious and in numbers clear,

" Eine feste Burg is unser Gott," 'tis he !

He sleeps at Wartburg, safe from Rome's decree !

Dissolv'd in light each mist that veil'd the sky,

Hath fled the approach of morn's bright canopy ;

•A Swan was on Luther's coat of arras.

262 LUTHER TRANSLATING THE BIBLE.

Daylight hath dawn'd around those time-worn towers,
And wak'd to life the wild woods' freshen' d flowers.
Each dew-drop spangl'd by the eastern ray,
Gilds the long grass that quivers on each spray;
While rainbow tints reflected from the sky,
Blend in rich hues the soften'd harmony.
The sun ne'er lent to earth a holier flame,
Nor shed such glory on the Saxon name,
As when on that blest morn his radiance fell,
On the lov'd page that brighten' d Luther's cell !
See where he sits in anxious thought absorb'd,
His eye yet resting on the sacred word ;
That treasur'd transcript from the courts of heaven,
By love indited and by mercy given !
Look on that lofty visage — mark the grace, —
That lights the features of that manly face :
Yet on that brow how inward cares have wrought
The deep-worn traces of that hidden thought,
Whose secret springs first mov'd his mighty mind,
! "T' unlock the gates of mercy on mankind !"
Fiim in his purpose midst unnumber'd foes,
T'was then the mighty master-spirit rose.
T'was then the efforts of his gifted mind,
By truth exalted and by grace refin'd ;
Soar'd like the eagle to its native sky,
Strong in his flight assur'd of victory.
T'was then with thunders from another sphere,
He came to rouse the slumb'ring nations here;
To free the spirit from that dread domain,
Where tyrant Rome had fix'd its papal reign !
As the deep stream with slow and siJent force,
Moves gently on 'till rocks impede its course ;
Swelling its bosom mid the cat'racts roar,
Of foaming waves that lash the troubl'd shor^?.
•Sae Gray's Elegy in a country church-yard.

LUTHER TRANSLATING THE BIBLE. 263

And onward finds the channel's well known ground,

Flowing once more with smooth and soften'd sound:

So rush'd his dauntless mind in hold career,

Uumov'd hy threat' nings and unaw'd hy fear.

That voice which sp^ke ohedient to his will,

No Bull could silence, and no threat could still.

His loud appeals rang through the list'ning crowd,

Alarm'd the vicious and subdu'd the proud :

E'en haughty legates stood abash'd with fear

And trembl'd for the fate of Leo's chair !

Yet to the humble poor his words were mild,

His actions gentle as the timid child ;

With the same spirit which his Master bore,

He bid them " go in peace and sin no more !"

Like Paul, when Felix felt the shaft he threw,

The spif-same portraiture of truth he drew.

In preaching Christ his heart knew no disguise,

Mercy his theme and love the sacrifice.

On the cold breast no folded hands were placed,

No emblems of the cross by fingers trac'd :

No cloister'd raptures fann'd devotion's flame,

Or warm'd to life the spirit's frozen frame,

No costly image claim'd the faithless sign,

The Lord of glory had no earthly shrine !

He bid his hearers look through faith and prayer,

Not to the cross — but to the victim there !

Yet look once more upon that eagle eye,

Stern in its glance, yet thron'd in charity;

Bright with intelligence, yet meek in love,

Keen as the serpent, harmless as the dove :

Before him clasp'd and hid in dark disguise,

Lost to the world, the Book of Glory, lies;

That page whose language day by day reveal'd,

To him those truths, from others long conceal'd

264 LTJTIIER TRANSLATING THE BIBLE.

Is cloth'd in darkness with the faith that came,

To bless mankind and free the world from shame.

Like the wreck'd mariner on some lone coast,

Man in the wilderness of life seem'd lost,

No star to guide him, and no arm to save,

Hopeless of life, to sink within the grave.

He saw — -he felt — the mighty impulse came,

The sacrifice commenc'd and Luther lit the flame !

Now day by day the Augustine scholar stood

Within those walls of darken'd solitude,

His eager spirit fill'd with truth divine,

Breath'd o'er each page, and scann'd each glowing line ;

Till from each hidden source with alter'd name

Some cheering word in freshen'd beauty came.

Some bright intelligence of heaven's own plan

Salvation's scheme — the love of God to man !

'Ere morning dawn'd the taper's fading light,

Still shew'd the patient labours of each night.

The lengthen'd manuscript, — the fragment torn :

The letter'd parchment time had darkly worn.

The hidden text in ancient garb array'd,

Now freely render'd and in truth convey'd,

In bright memorials round the scholar shone,

And stamp'd the fame of Erfurt's noblest son !

Hail sacred book imbued with life divine !

O'er this dark earth still may thy glories shine,

As when with streams of living light unfurl'd,

Thy Saxon transcript came to bless the world ;

Adorn'd with truth still may thy doctrines bring

The spirit's unction from its healing wing :

Within thy leaves still may that balm be found,

Which mercy gave to cleanse the sinner's wound ;

Till nations yet unborn thy power shall own ;

Thy reign eternal as Messiah's throne.!

THE DISCUSSION AT LEIPZIG.

BY THF HEV. PROF. J. H. AGNEW,

Editor of the American Biblical Repository and the American Eclectic.

This belongs to the history of Luther, whose name will
be ever revered in the Protestant church, as the great pio-
neer of the Reformation from popery, and whose spirit will
animate the sons of God, until the ' Man of Sin' shall put off
his satanic panoply, and succumb before the spiritual power
of the gospel. May that day soon come !

In the midst of the pacific conferences between Luther
and Charles Von Miltitz, the pope's nuncio, Eckius, author
of the Obelisks, Ingoldstadt Doctor and bold champion of
the pope's supremacy, had maliciously assailed Luther.
When they afterwards met at Augsburg, it was agreed to
have a public debate on the mooted questions at Leipzig, —
to be conducted principally by Eckius and Carlstadt.
Meanwhile Eckius published an Essay, flattering to the See
of Rome and charging Luther with heresy in respect to ab-
solution and the power of the pope. The University of
Wittenberg was also assailed, and strong jealousy awakened
on the part of the University of Leipzig. The latter not
only pitted Eckius, but Dungersheim, one of their own
number, against Luther, which led to some polemical disser-
tations.

Luther had agreed with Miltitz to drop the controversy,
on condition that his antagonists did so also, and to be silent
as long as they were. But when Eckius maliciously assailed
16

266 THE DISCUSSION AT LEIPZIG.

him and his beloved University, he felt himself free from the
compact and obliged to enter the lists again with his adver-
saries.

'God knows,' he wrote, on the 13th of March, 1519, to
the Elector of Saxony, a that I rejoiced in the prospect of
putting an end to the game ; and so firmly have I adhered to
my engagement, that I have abandoned the replication to
Mr. Sylvester Prierias, although I thus subject myself to the
derision of my insolent enemies, and act contrary to the ad-
vice of friends; but one compact was, as Mr. Charles (Mil-
titz) well knows, that I would be silent, as long as my antag-
onists would. Doctor Eekius, however, now attacks me
without notice, and aims not only at my dishonor, but at the
disgrace of the whole University of your Electoral Grace
at Wittenberg. It is thought, too, by many good people,
that he is, in this thing, influenced by bribery. A course so
fickle, so insidious it is impossible for me not to despise, nor
can I suffer the truth to be so opprobriously treated. I am
still cordially disposed to take the advice of your Electoral
Grace, and at all events to be silent, if they be also ; if
otherwise, however, I humbly beg your Grace not to deem
it ungracious in me, for I cannot conscientiously desert the
cause of truth."1

The celebrated debate was now approaching; and the
nearer the time, the more were the friends of the pope fear-
ful of the issue. The bishop of Mersburg, Prince Adol-
phus of Anhalt, Chancellor of the University at Leipzig,
took bold measures to prevent it, even directing placards to
be put up on the gates of the churches, forbidding the dis-
cussion on pain of excommunication. But Duke George,
cousin of the Elector, and Prince of the district including

'Loscher's Reformationsacta und Documcnte, iii. p. 205.

THE DISCUSSION AT LEIPZIG. 2G7

Leipzig, ordered the city council to have them torn down,
and authorized the debate.

The subsequent account of it is translated from the Ger-
man of Marheinecke's History of the Reformation in Ger-
many.

' Eckius was there in good season, exhibiting himself as
the most famous champion and debater of his day. On the
17th of June, the Wittenbergers made their appearance.
Carlstadt, alone in his carriage, headed the procession; but
unfortunately, he broke one of the wheels not far from the
Grimma-Gate, and the Doctor was tumbled into the mud.
This event was interpreted by the people, as an evil omen.
Next came Duke Barnim of Pomerania, who was at that
time, Rector Magnificoilissimus in Wittenberg. On either
side of him, Luther and Melancthon, conveyed by a large
company of students, armed with spears and halherts. Eckius
afterwards declared that there were two hundred of them.
The interest manifested by these young men was so sincere
and heartfelt, that at the inns where they were accommoda-
ted, the landlord found it necessary to station some one be-
fore the table, armed with a halbert, to keep the peace. So
much were the passions excited in these controversies, that
one of the Leipzig masters died in consequence of the anger
with which he declaimsd against Luther.1

' Duke George also was present to witness the disputation,
and gave the use of his palace for the purpose. At either
end, was erected a pulpit, and tables were set near for the
notaries, who were to report. The pulpits and seats were
hung with elegant tapestry. To Doctor Eckius the Duke
made a present of a fine stag, to Carlstadt of a roe.

'See the account by Scb. Fioschel, in Loscher iii. p. 278.

268 THE DISCUSSION AT LEIPZIG.

c On the 27th of June, the disputants and their attendants
assembled in the great college, to hear a discourse delivered
in the name of the University, after which the University
and all the strangers went to mass at the church of St
Thomas, and thence to the palace. There was a guard of
burghers in armor, with their best weapons and colors, for
the purpose of keeping order daily, in the morning from
seven to nine, and in the afternoon from two until five.

' On the first day, Peter Mosellanus-Schade, born on the
Mosella, Professor of the Greek language, delivered a fine
oration, congratulating the Duke, attacking the scholastic
divines, and exhorting the disputants to proper discretion
and love of the truth. After the oration they went to din-
ner, and in the afternoon of the same day, the debate was
opened, after the choir had sung the invocatory hymn — Veni,
Sancte Spiritus ! Come, Holy Spirit !

cOf the debate it is enough to say, that Eckius and Carl-
stadt disputed for eight days, on the subject of free-will. In
the course of the discussion, Eckius frequently displayed all
the bold gesticulation, obstreperous bawling, loquacity, and
insolent manner of a comedian, and often came down upon
Carlstadt by surprise, tauntingly triumphing over him, as
he fumbled over his manuscripts and books, and spun out his
remarks with vexatious prolixity. In his impassioned style,
he sometimes seized on the views of his opponent, and pro-
mulgated them, most sophistically, as his own. Nor did he
hesitate, haughty and unabashed, to trumpet his own praises.
His vaunting desire to measure himself with Luther was
soon gratified ; for they two, now entered the lists and occu-
pied the next two weeks in discussing the primacy of the
pope, the councils, repentance, purgatory and indulgences.
Then Carlstadt and Eckius battled it again for three whole
days more and concluded the debate.

THE DISCUSSION AT LEIPZIG. 269

'"Thus," says Luther, in his report, "almost nothing
worth mentioning has been handled in this disputation, ex-
cept my thirteen propositions on the power of the pope.
Nevertheless Eckius triumphs, exults, domineers. The cit-
izens of Leipzig have neither greeted us, nor called on us,
but have regarded us as their bitterest enemies ; whilst they
have constantly hung about Eckius, eating and drinking with
him, inviting him as their guest, riding out with him on ex-
cursions of pleaure, and showing their good will by present-
ing him with a robe and a camlet. They have shown us one
mark of respect, indeed, — which perhaps, they dared not
omitj as it is customary — in sending us a present of wine.
Duke George invited all three of us to dine with him, and
requested to see me alone also, when he spake at length of
my books. I was grieved to see him so much influenced by
foreign movements, for when he uttered his own sentiments,
he spake sufficiently like a prince. The last monstrosity of
envy and hatred was this, that although requested by our
Rector, the Duke of Pomerania, to preach before his Grace,
in the palace chapel, on St. Peter's and St. Paul's day, I was
not permitted. A large assembly of both men and women,
that had come together on hearing my purpose to preach,
was dispersed without being satisfied."

'Duke George was not very favorably impressed in re-
spect to Luther, especially by his rather commendatory al-
lusion to the Hussites, and many others heard the debate
with great indifference. Those who sat with Eckius slept
most of the time, so that it was usually necessary to wake
them up at each suspension of the debate, lest they should
lose their dinner and supper. Melancthon, however, sat
composedly in his seat, and listened attentively to the whole
controversy. Duke Barnim, also, manifested more interest

270 THE DISCUSSION AT LEIPZIG.

in the discussion than any of the Leipzig theologians and
collegians, as he was better versed in true theology than
they.1

' After the termination of the discussion, there were mu-
tual recriminations, and both parties, as usual claimed the
victory.

1 Among the most impartial of the reports of this debate,
are unquestionably, those of Peter Mosellanus, one of which
is directed to Billbald Pirkheimer, the other to Julius von
Pflug. In the latter he thus describes Luther : " Martin is
of middle stature, so lean from care and study, that the
bones can almost be counted through the skin, yet of mascu-
line and vigorous years, and possessing a clear, sonorous
voice. His scholarship is superior and his knowledge of
the scriptures such, that he had them at his fingers' ends.
His familiarity with the Hebrew and the Greek languages
qualifies him to judge of biblical interpretations. Nor is he
deficient in facts, for you find in him a great store-house of
words and things. He is withal, courteous and kind, free
from moroseness, and able to suit himself to all situations —
sportive, facetious, always wearing so cheerful, gladsome a
countenance, even when threatened by his adversaries, that
we cannot believe the man capable of performing such la-
bors and sustaining such burdens as he does, without the as- -
sistance of heaven."2

' The most important consequence of the proceedings at
Leipzig, was that the number of Luther's friends, as of his
enemies, was considerably increased. Apologies and repli-
cations appeared on all sides, tending to augment the bitter-
ness of feeling already existing. In July of this year, Lu-

1 Lcischer as above, p. 280.

2 Luther's Werke, xv. p. 1422.

THE DISCUSSION AT LEIPZIG. 271

ther received two letters from the Hussites of Bohemia, in
which they greatly encouraged him, cordially wishing him
success and perseverance in the good work in which he had
engaged, and expressing also the belief, that he would be in
Saxony what Huss had before been in Bohemia. These let-
ters were accompanied by some of the writings of Huss.1

'Hereupon the wrath of a new adversary, which had
doubtless been secretly cherished for some time, displayed
itself. Jerome Emser, professor at Leipzig, with whom
Luther had been acquainted at Dresden, wrote a letter to
Prague, feigning himself a friend and coadjutor of Luther,
and affirming that the latter had given no countenance what-
ever to the Bohemians in the discussion at Leipzig, on the
contrary that he was wholly averse from their heresy, and
that, consequently, they had no reason to boast of his appro-
bation. Luther was exceedingly pained by this Judas-kiss
and base artifice, attacked Emser severely about it, and bit-
terly exposed his shameful designs.' 2

On the other hand Melancthon Avas drawn into the con-
troversy. As already remarked, he had been a silent auditor
of the contest at Leipzig, of which he afterwards wrote an
impartial account for his iriend Oecolampadius, doing all
justice to Doctor Eckius and the other parties, in his mild,
modest way, although he rather inclines to the side of Lu-
ther and Carlstadt. " Eckius," he there says, " by his
diversified and fine talents, has awakened the admiration of
most of us. Carlstadt is a man of rare scholarship, and of
more understanding than a majority of mankind. As to Lu-
ther, with whom I am in daily, confidential intimacy, his ad-
mirable and versatile intellect, his learning and his eloquence
amaze me, and I cannot but cordially love his genuine chris-

1 Loscher iii. p. 649.

2Reply to the he-goat Emser in Luther's Werke xviii. p. 14S9 and 1534.

272 THE DISCUSSION AT LEIPZIG.

tian spirit." 1 This epistle soon fell into the hands of Ecki-
us, who thereupon published an apology, in which he treated
the peaceful and noble Melancthon with utter contempt, call-
ing him a mere grammarian, a little man of words, with
whom no theologian would ever condescend to enter into
controversy on theological subjects.2 Melancthon, in his
defence, handled the chief points of dispute with great ele-
gance and profundity, and directed attention rather to the
subject-matter than to persons. " That Eckius," he here
says, " considers me too dumb to apprehend his theological
points, can certainly give me no offence, if he only concede
that, even common christians may converse about religious
questions, and we, who have no disrelish for theological
topics, need sometimes to quicken ourselves with such holy
joys. How much better would it not be, to incite infants,
among whom I reckon myself, to an affectionate and diligent
study of the holy scriptures, and, even if they err through
ignorance, rather to overlook the fault than to frighten them
away by language so unkind and severe." 3

4 Luther thus expresses himself to Spalatin. " I presume
you have read Eckius' apology directed against our Philip,
whom he is so far from rendering odious to me, that his ap-
probation of my doings is worth everything, and his judg-
ment and authority prized more highly than that of many
thousand Eckiuses. Although I am master in philosophy and
theology, and can parade as many titles, at least, as Eckius,
I am not ashamed to yield my opinion to this same gramma-
rian, which indeed I do daily, on account of the gifts of God
so abundantly conferred on this earthen vessel, so despicable

•Luth. W. xv. p. 1443.
•Lntb. W. p. 1495.
3Luth.W. p. 1501.

THE DISCUSSION AT LEIPZIG. 273

in the eyes of Eckius. I praise not Philip; he is a creature
and nothing. I praise the work of God in him."

' The assaults and calumnies which Luther and Melanc-
thon shared in common, only tended to strengthen the friend-
ship and affection existing between them. No suspicion nor
envy tarnished the pure bond of union. No malice succeed-
ed in sowing seeds of discord; and different as they Avere,
in many respects, each always did the other justice. Luther,
at a later period, said : " I prefer Master Philip's books to
my own, and would rather see them circulated both in Latin
and German, than mine. I was born to wage war and man-
age campaigns against rabbles and devils ; consequently my
books are stormy and warlike. I must root out the stumps,
clear away briars and thorns, drain marshes and pools. I
am the pioneer of the forest, and must open up and lay out
the roads. But Master Philip travels along gently and quiet-
ly, ploughs and plants, sows and waters, all very pleasantly,
as God has richly endued him with his gifts." x

1 Subsequently he wrote : " Perhaps I am the forerunner
of Philip, for whom, like Elias, I must prepare the way, in
spirit and in truth. You will always have me, although but
a rude novice, as a coadjutor; nor shall I regret to wage the
warfare under such a leader. Who would not willingly per-
form military duty under one who bears such a soul in his
bosom — one who brings so much learning to the aid of theo-
logy, who has thoroughly investigated nature and is perfect-
ly familiar with the systems of philosophy ? For I take it,
they are very much mistaken, who say that philosophy and
physics have no bearing on theology. Why else should they
be studied ?" 2

'Luth. W. xivr. p. 200.

2L. W. XV. p. 1949, xxi. p. 762.

LUTHER.

The legates of the pope are said to have plied Erasmus
closely with the offer of a rich hishopric, if he would under-
take to wa'ite against Luther, but he answered them by say-
ing : " Luther is too great a man for me to encounter. I do
not even always understand him. However to speak plainly,
he is so extraordinary a man that I learn more from a single
page in his books, than from all the writings of Thomas
Aquinas."

The Academicians of Louvain once complained to Mar-
garet, the emperor's sister, governess of the Netherlands,
that Luther by his writings was subverting Christianity.
"Who is this Luther?" said she. They replied, "He is an
illiterate monk." " Is he so ? Then do you who are very
learned and numerous, write against this illiterate monk, and
surely the world will pay more regard to many scholars
than to one ignoramus." But the learned gentlemen declined
the contest.

When some one in his presence blamed Luther's violence,
" God," said Erasmus, " has sent a physician wrho cuts into
the flesh, because, without such an one, the disorder would
become incurable."

jacsfmfU of auther's StitojiraiHi.
j Cor If-

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Iks fly fofr p-{r$h cfc^S Cfyy/M

I T4 3

FACSIMILE OF LUTHER'S AUTOGRAPH.

The autographs of distinguished men have always been
regarded with interest by persons of refined taste. We
would not go so far as to determine a man's character from
the form of his handwriting, as some pretend to do, but it is
always pleasing to see how authors constructed their written
words, which we read with so much interest and profit,
when printed. We have introduced facsimilar specimens
from several of the Reformers, accompanied with transla-
tions, which will doubtless, be properly appreciated by our
readers. It will be seen that they require decyphering, and
hence we have given them in Roman letters and an English
version, for the benefit of those who do not read German or
Latin.

1 Cor. 15.

Jlbsorpta est mors in victoriam.

Isaiae xxv.

Pracipitavit mortem in eternum.
Weil Adam lebt (das ist, siindiget) verschlinget der Tod
das Leben. Wenn aber Christus stirbt (das ist, gerecht
wird) verschlinget das Leben den Tod. Des sey Gott
gelobt, das Christus stirbt und recht behelt.

278 FACSIMILE OF LUTHER's AUTOGRAPH.

TRANSLATION.

1 Cor. 15,(55.)

Death is swallowed up in victory.

Isaiah xxv. (8.)

He hath swallowed up death in victory.

As long as Adam lives (that is, sins) death swallows up
life. But when Christ dies (that is, when the sinner is justi-
fied by faith) life swallows up death. God be praised, that
Christ dies and procures justification.

Martinus Luther, D. 1543.

ULRICH VON HUTTEN.

BY REV. PROF. WM. M. REYNOLDS, OF PENNSYLVANIA COLLEGE.

The Huttens traced their lineage back full six hundred
years to the old Franks who, by sword and pike, made good
their title to the lands they held upon the Mayn and the
Weser as liege subjects and good knights of the emperor.
They possessed the two great castles of Stickelberg and
Frankenberg, to say nothing of many minor ones in the hands
of younger branches of the family, so that in the time of
Maximilian, the first German emperor of that name, thirty
Huttens were found occupying prominent posts in the army
and in the civil service. In the middle of the fifteenth cen-
tury, the old castle of Stickelberg, perched upon a crag that
frowns upon the lovely shores of the Mayn and is only two
leagues distant from Fulda, upon the river of the same name,
was occupied by Lorenz Von Hutten, a rugged old warrior,
who, though familiar with emperors and their courts, yet re-
fused to dress in foreign cloth, or to admit aught that was
foreign into his house — a spark of the old spirit of German
independence, that was to enkindle the flame of patriotism
more enlightened in his grandson. Ulrich Von Hutten, his
son, served with distinction in the armies of Maximilian, and
rich in fame and in his patrimonial possessions, wooed and
won Ottilia Von Jlberstein, the daughter of a noble house,
beautiful, amiable, and pious, according to the spirit of the
times.

280 ULR1CH VON HUTTEN.

Our hero, Ulrich, was the eldest son of this marriage.
He grew up in the usual way at the old castle and amid the
forests that spread their dark gloom around Stickelberg, un-
til he had entered his tenth year. Then his father, who now
rejoiced in several other sons, began to fear that his eldest
would never be able to maintain the honors of his strong-
handed 'ancestors — for, unlike them, he was diminutive in
person and feeble in health. But his kindly disposition, his
serious mind and his thirst for knowledge had endeared him
to his mother, almost as much as the anxiety he had cost her
when she hung over his sick bed or lulled him to sleep upon
her bosom. But Ulnch would be unfit for arms — and that
closed the heart of his father, who knew of no other honor-
able profession, against him. But might he not make a
priest, thought the devout mother; or might he not become
even an abbot or a bishop ? And she ventured to hint the
idea to her stern husband. He was pleased with the sugges-
tion and forthwith determined that it should be so — and he
thereupon consulted the abbot of Fukla, which convent his
father had alternately threatened and protected, in relation
to the matter. There was a famous school at Fulda at that
time, and thither it was determined that he should go to pre-
pare for the career carved out for him.

But the spirit of the old barons, as well as that of his
gentle mother was already in young Ulrich. He had learned
to mount and to manage a horse, to handle a sword, to join
in the chase and other military amusements of his father and
his retainers. He had become familiar with the early tradi-
tions of his family, and his soul was all on fire to emulate
them. True, when he came home he would retire into his
mother's chamber or into some deep window of the old hall
and pore over the legends of saints or the chronicles of he-

ULRICII VON IIUTTEN. 281

roes, until roused by the rough voice of his father or the
tender anxiety of his mother.

Yet the idea of entering a convent was not welcome to
him even at that early age, for he fully understood that it
was not the career that those hold knights of whom he loved
to read had run, and besides this, he keenly felt that his fath-
er's contempt, which was every day becoming more galling,
had chosen it for him. At this his little heart rose in obsti-
nate rebellion, and he manifested a firm though quiet resolu-
tion not to submit. When, however, his mother told him of
the advantages that he would have for study and of the
books that fdled the shelves of the old convent, and further
that he would have an opportunity of becoming acquainted
writh the monastic and clerical profession, which he could
not enter for years to come, he agreed to reserve his .oppo-
sition for a more distant day.

To Fulda then he went, in the eleventh year of his age,
full of hopes and of romantic resolves, and yet, we may sup-
pose, not without some gloomy forebodings. But new faces
and a number of young companions were no unpleasant sub-
stitute for the harsh words and unkindly looks of his father —
to escape which he was even willing to be separated from
the best of mothers. Books were put into his hands — he
began on one of the lowest forms, for neither his age nor his
advantages had hitherto allowed him to make much progress
in the studies then pursued in the schools. But he fell into
good bauds in this respect, considering the state of learning
which was just beginning to free itself from the trammels of
monastic dulness.

The little Ulrich soon mastered the mysteries of Latin
grammar and made great progress in all the studies to which
he applied himself. In the course of three years he stood at

282 ULRICH VON I1UTTEN.

the head of the school, a universal favorite with both teach-
ers and scholars, for he was as great a proficient in the sports
of the playground as in more serious pursuits, and his spright-
liness and generosity, combined with a bold and manly spirit,
made him the very life and soul of the young circle that
clustered around him. But a great change took place when
in his fifteenth year, his father proposed that he should take
upon himself the preliminary vows of a monk. The youth's
mind was now expanded by study and reading, and knowing
what his father's wishes were, he had looked at the subject
and deliberately formed the resolution never to assume the
clerical profession. The abbot of Fulda and all the breth-
ren were anxious to secure this prize, a young man who bid.
fair to be not more distinguished as the head of a noble house
than as one of the greatest geniuses of the age. But he was
inflexible and not even his mother's entreaties could for a
moment move him. His father was equally immoveable, and
persisted in his demand. The accomplished knight, Eiteh
wolf von Stein, who had become acquainted with Hutten's
talents earnestly advised his father to send him to some uni-
versity, but failed to influence the old man who was at times
violent. Eitehoolf also showed his sympathy with the young
student's aversion to monkery by asking the abbot the preg-
nant question, " Would you ruin such a genius?'''' His friend-
ship and countenance confirmed Ulrich in his determination
and may have emboldened him to the step which he finally
took.

Wearied by his father's violence and the arguments and
entreaties of the monks, anxious also to prosecute those lib-
eral studies to which he had become deeply attached, and
with something, it may be, of the spirit of a knight-errant
thirsting for adventures, Ulrich, now in the sixteenth year of

ULRICH VON HUTTEN. 283

his age, fled from the monastery. It does not appear that
he communicated his design to any one, his generous spirit
refusing to involve others in his own danger. This was in
1504. He first directed his steps to the University of Er-
furt. How he managed to live here we know not, for he
appears to have received nothing from home, his father be-
ing deeply embittered against him. It is probable, however,
that his uncles, Froben and Louis von Hutten and his gener-
ous friends Eitehcolf von Stein and JWarquard von Hotstcin,
of whom he ever spoke with warmest feelings, came for-
ward to his assistance. Here he found some congenial
spirits, particularly Eoban Hess, Crotus Rubianus and Zem-
onius — all of them wits and poets. It does not appear that
he formed any acquaintance with that great master-spirit of
the age, Luther — who was here at the same time, undergo-
ing that moral revolution which fitted him for his peculiar
office, the high priesthood of religious reform. And yet
they were not uncongenial in their temperament and were
destined to be fellow laborers, though in different fields of
one great work. But Luther's more advanced age — he took
his degree as a Doctor in Philosophy the year of Hutten's
arrival — as well as the peculiar state of his mind at this pe-
riod, would naturally prevent their becoming acquainted, es-
pecially in such a crowd of students as then filled that dis-
tinguished university. Yet it is interesting to know that
there were here at the same time, all unknown to each other,
two young Titans who, in after days, would battle so stoutly
against him who claimed to be the god of this world.

Here begins that wandering life of Hutten which is a true
type of the student-life of Germany even down to our own
day. The plague breaking out at Erfurt, he went to Col-
ogne, where he became acquainted with those uncongenial
17

284 ULRICH VON HUTTEN.

spirits of light and darkness — the learned Rhagms and Cae-
sarins and the noble Count dc iWienar, and those blind de-
votees of decayed scholasticism Ortuin Gratius, Hochstra-
ten, the inquisitor ; Arnold von Tiingem and others whom
he has immortalized for their stupidity in his Epistolae ob-
scuronim Vironim. With Rhagias whom this malign influ-
ence banished from Cologne he went to Frankfurt on the
Oder, where he took his degree as Doctor of Philosophy.
It was here that he first appeared in public as a poet, cele-
brating the opening of the new University by his poem " In
Marchiamf in honor of the elector of Brandenburg, its
founder. Having remained here three years, devoted chief-
ly to the cultivation of poetry, his restless spirit drove him
forth once more upon his wanderings. Suffering shipwreck,
he came as a beggar to Greifswald, where he was first pa-
tronized and then most barbarously treated by Henning Loez
and his father, whose hirelings attacked him on the road,
robbed him of all he possessed, even to his manuscripts,
wounded him severely as he resisted, and having stripped
him almost naked, left him, in the dead of winter, far from
human habitations and assistance. Arriving at Rostock, he
lay for days at death's door, but the vigor of youth and the
kind attentions of friends finally restored him, when one of
his first efforts was to hold up to the execration of the liter-
ary wrorld in which he desired to figure, Loez — against whom
he wrote two books of satires under the title of " Qiterclae."
So biting was this that the father and son, who were as rich
as they were infamous, endeavored to suppress it by pur-
chasing all the copies that were exposed for sale.

This was soon followed by other more important works
which appear the more remarkable when we remember that
he was wandering, whilst he wrote them, all over Germany,

ULRICH VON HUTTEX. 2S5

Hungary and Italy, and at times entirely destitute of ade-
quate means of subsistence. To Italy he went as a means
of propitiating his father, whose displeasure was somewhat,
though not entirely abated by the fame which his son had by
this time acquired as a poet. He, however, promised a full
reconciliation, if Ulrich would apply himself to the study of
law. Italy was the great school for this science, at this time,
and he devoted himself to it in the famous universities of
Bologna, Pavia and Rome. Disgusted with its technicalities
and its trickery, he finally abandoned it, and returned to his
favorite pursuits. War breaking out between the Emperor
and the French, he entered the army of his countrymen, and
was present, as a common soldier, according to some, at the
siesre of Padua in 1513.

D

Like Luther's, Hutterts visit to Rome appears to have
opened his eyes to the corruption of the papal court and
government. But as he remained longer in Italy and became
better acquainted with the state of opinion there among the
wits and literary men, by whom he was received with open
arms, during the period of his second visit in 1515, he arri-
ved at his conclusions more rapidly, and though they visited
the country about the same time, was the first to publish to
the world his views upon the subject

Before doing so he appeared in a new department of au-
thorship. The murder of his cousin John Hutten, by Ul-
rich, Duke of Wurtemburg, under circumstances of the
greatest atrocity, gave occasion to three eloquent orations,
which have gained him the title of the Demosthenes of Ger-
many. When the news of this event was brought him, Hut-
ten was at the baths of Ems, whither he had resorted in the
hope of restoring his health which had suffered not only by
the exposures of his wandering life, but likewise by youth-

286 ULRICII VON IIUTTEN.

ful indiscretion. Forgetful of this he devoted himself to
the work of doing justice to his dearest friend and of bring-
ing down vengeance upon the head of his murderer. The
first of these efforts was his " Phalarismus" or " Tyrants'1
Dialogue" which was succeeded by various others in the
same spirit. Their effect was tremendous. " Twenty mailed
knights" says a biographer of the Duke of Wurtemburg,
" could not have done him as much harm as this single man."
Scores of knights and retainers who were in his service for-
sook the duke — the emperor put the ban of the empire upon
him, and finally, a league, headed by Franz Von Sickcngen^
drove the tyrant from his territories and stripped him of all
his power. Hutten, with many members of the family, was
present and bore a conspicuous part in this war, which,
however, was not distinguished by any regular battle, the
duke not daring to face his enemies in the field.

Hutten entered very warmly into the controversy growing
out of the attempt by the monks and inquisitors of Cologne
to procure the condemnation of that illustrious laborer in the
revival of literature, John Reuchlin. He published various
poems in his praise, but what was more effective than every-
thing else, was the principal author of that celebrated col-
lection of satires, the " Epistolce Obscurorum Virorum." He
thus incurred the bitter hatred of the monkish fraternities,
who finally, in 1517, procured from Leo X. a bull condem-
natory of the "Epistolce ," of which, however, Hutten was
not known to be the author. But he no doubt felt deep in-
dignation that the pretended vicar of Christ should throw
the shield of his power over the ignorance, indolence, and
vices of these foes of mental illumination. He may not have
intended it so, but it seems somewhat like a retort, that Hut-
ton towards the close of the same year published his edition

TJLRICH VON HUTTEN. 287

of that remarkable work of Valla, " On the falsely believed
and invented donation of Constantine the Great." The ob-
ject of this book, written by the Roman nobleman whose
name it bears, was to prove that the pretended gift of Rome
and the so-called estates of the church to the pope, never
was and never could have been made by Constantine, and
that even if it had, the popes had, by their crimes and mis-
government, forfeited all claims to it. So hateful was this
treatise to the papal see that it was condemned and prohibit-
ed soon after its appearance in the preceding century. It
was a bold step for any one even to quote it at this time, but
Hutten not only published it, but prefixed to it an epistle
dedicatory addressed to the pope himself. In this he goes
even farther than his author in depicting the crimes and ty-
ranny of those who had taken the title of successors of St.
Peter. He calls them thieves, murderers, robbers and ty-
rants, of whose enormities no one could give an adequate
idea; enemies of the whole human race; men who grasped
the wealth of every land, in order to do which they imposed
the heaviest yoke, hurled kings from their thrones — and then
called themselves the followers of Christ whom yet they did
not obey in the slightest degree." Though Luther had not
yet protested against the sale of indulgences, he says to Leo
X. in relation to them: " It was thy predecessors who found
means to make merchandise of the sins of men, yea even of
their penalty in the eternal world."

Yet this work, whose bold tone, even three years later,
alarmed the Wittenberg reformer, into whose hands it ap-
pears then for the first time to have come, created no parti-
cular alarm or indignation at the papal court or among the
adherents of Rome. On the contrary, its author, who had
just been dubbed a knight by the emperor Maximilian and

ULRICH VON HUTTEN.

received by his orders, the poet's laurel crown, at the hands
of Constantia Pciitinger, the loveliest and most highly edu-
cated lady of her time, was universally admired, offered the
mo'st honorable situations, and soon after entered into the
service of Albert, arch-bishop of Mainz, as one of his secre-
taries and counsellors. In this capacity he soon after travel-
led to Paris, where he attracted no less attention. Upon his
return from this journey he was informed of Luther's attack
upon indulgences, but supposing it a mere monkish quarrel
he said to the monk who told him of it, " Go on and des-
troy and be destroyed.'''' It was a similar prejudice, no doubt,
that prevented him, in the following year, from interesting
himself in Luther, who then appeared before Cajetan at
Augsburg. Yet at this very time Hutten, in a speech which
advocated a war against the Turks, made another attack
upon the power and policy of the popes, of so violent a
character that his friends at the court of Albert, insisted that
the most offensive parts should be left out when it was print-
ed. Subsequently, however, he gave a new edition of it in
which the expurgated passages were restored. Here, among
much of similar spirit, he says: "Whenever the Romans
wish to rob the Germans they begin to spread the alarm of
a Turkish war. I am filled with indignation when I see the
thousand schemes by which they have obtained our money.
Pallia are sold for more than enough ; the revenues of our
churches, that is the sweat and blood of our parents, are
sent to Rome under the name of pensions — and all these
things are done under pretexts of piety !" He spoke at the
same time with equal plainness and freedom of the vices of
the princes and nobles. He called upon them " to put an
end to their hunts, and pompous tourneys, dances and other
frivolities ; to bridle their ambition, and their lust of con-

ULRICII VON IIUTTEN. 289

quest and plunder, and rather direct their attention to the
promotion of their country's well-being and honor."

It was not to he expected that such a spirit should long-
breathe the pestilential air of a court, and that the court of
the luxurious Albert of Brandenburg, the grand commissary
for the sale of papal indulgences in Germany. Much as
Hutten desired such a field for the exercise of his abilities
in the service of his country, he was too uncompromising in
his honesty long to retain any influence or favor in such a
place. Without coming to an open rupture with the arch-
bishop, he left his service, and having, in the war against
Ulrich of Wurtemburg, become an ardent friend and admirer
of Franz Yon Sickingen, he soon after attached himself to
that mirror of German knights and took up his abode with
hitn at his famous castle of Ebernburg, which about this
time became the common place of refuge for many upon
whom Rome pronounced her anathemas, whence it received
the name of the " hostelry of the just.'''' Here a kind of alli-
ance seems to have been entered into by these representa-
tives of the knighthood and literature of Germany, the ob-
ject of which was to break down the pride of the prelacy,
defend the friends of rejected and persecuted truth, and to
take all the weak under their protection and thus curb the
power of tyranny every where, both in church and state.
But Hutten's great object was to excite Germany to assert
her national independence and liberty by bursting the chains
of Roman despotism. And although the iron sword which
he and his friend drew for this purpose soon fell powerless
from their hands, that keener sword of the spirit which the
intellectual giant wielded, did and still continues to do good
service in this cause.

ULRICH VON I1UTTEN.

It would extend the limits of this article too much to give
any thing like an analysis or adequate idea of the works
which one after another issued from Hutten's pen during the
few remaining years that the fury of his enemies allowed
him a resting place for the sole of his foot. One of the
most remarkable is his dialogue entitled, " The Roman Tri-
ad," and it has been well characterized as the "severest
among the severe things which he wrote." * It receives its
name from the fact that a great part of it consists of triads
of which the following may serve as examples :

" Three things uphold the influence of Rome : the pope's
dignity, the relics of saints, and the traffic in indulgences."

" Three things are brought home from Rome : a bad con-
science, a disordered stomach, and an empty purse."

" Three things are made a matter of jest at Rome : the
examples and virtues of the ancients, the priesthood of St.
Peter, and the day of final judgment."

w Three things govern Rome: pimps, courtisans, and usur-.
ers."

" Three kinds of sickness are most prevalent at Rome :
the fever, poverty and deceit."

" Three things are much boasted of at Rome, yet cannot
be found there : meditation, faith and innocence."

Cutting as these things are, the remarks or commentaries
by which they were accompanied were much more so, nor
did it detract from their unpalatableness that they were de-
rived chiefly from the history of the popes, or from the au-
thor's own experience. Rome was at length aroused. She
first directed her eyes to one of her highest dignitaries, the
archbishop of Mainz, under whose jurisdiction this thing

' WagenseiVs Hutten, p. 92, to which I am mainly indebted for the mate-
rials for this sketch.

XJLRICH VOX IIUTTEN. 291

was done, expecting that he would interfere to check it.
But as he neglected to do so, she determined to remind him
of his duty and quicken him in its performance. A papal
brief was therefore, addressed to Albert requiring him to
" bring to proper modesty those who were so evilminded as
to rise up against the holy see, or to punish them summarily,
that others might take warning by their example." Albert
seems to have given him notice of this, and was answered
by a new publication of the same character, " On the pro-
per mode of extinguishing heresy and restoring the unity of
the church" — in which the baseless nature of the papal do-
minion was distinctl}7 brought out by a series of letters written
from the most distinguished universities towards the close of
the fourteenth century, with the design of terminating the
scandalous schism under the two antipopes, Urban VI. and
Clement VII.

Scarcely had Hutten reached Ebernburg before there is-
sued from the episcopal palace an order prohibiting the sale
and reading of his books, under pain of excommunication.
This was the end of all friendly relations between Hutten
and Albert of Mainz, and when, a short time afterwards, he
revisited Mainz, he was not permitted to have a private in-
terview with the prince. But this did not for a moment
shake his determination — it only hastened and invigorated
that grand movement which he was preparing to make
against Rome. Hitherto he had studiously avoided implica-
ting himself with Luther, but he now publicly united with
him. And in fact this union was a very natural one — their
object though not the same, was coincident. Hutten clear-
ly saw and appreciated the difference between them, de-
claring that he was " a mere man of the world, who sought
the deliverance of Germany from the yoke of Rome, but

ULRICH VON IIUTTEN.

that Luther had undertaken the purification of Christianity
from human ordinances, and in view of this he exclaimed :
" Thy work, holy man, is of God, and must be established ;
mine is of man, and must be destroyed" — a prophecy which
was only too soon fulfilled.

Disappointed in his expectation of stirring up the highest
dignitary among the German clergy against the power of
the pope, Hutten turned his eyes to the head of the state,
the celebrated emperor Charles V. It was well known that
Leo X. had opposed his election to the imperial throne, it
seemed therefore, not unnatural that he should be willing to
pursue a course calculated to lower his pride and circum-
scribe his power. To urge him and the archduke Ferdi-
nand of Austria to this policy, Hutten, in the summer of
1520, visited the imperial court which was then held at
Brussels. But here begins the melancholy chain of events
by which the ardent patriot finally fell a sacrifice to the ven-
geance of his country's oppressors. He was not even ad-
mitted to an audience with Charles, and his friends earnestly
advised him to retire at once from the city, as they had cer-
tain information that assassins had been sent from Rome with
the design of despatching him by the dagger or by poison.
This he was unwilling to believe, and only followed their
advice when he ascertained beyond a doubt that Leo X. from
wrhom he had anticipated a reformation of those abuses
which prevailed in the papal see, had urged the emperor to
send him in chains to Rome. This excited all the angry
feelings of the man and of the knight, and heightened into
deep abhorrence all that hostility which he had hitherto
cherished against every form of tyranny, but especially the
papal.

ULRICH VON HUTTEN. 293

Under such circumstances we cannot but admire the mag-
nanimity displayed in an adventure which he had as he was
returning into Germany. Travelling along one day, he met
the infamous inquisitor Hochstraten, who, he had been assur-
ed, was one of the agents commissioned to take him a pris-
oner to Rome. As soon as he saw him he sprang from his
horse and drawing his sword exclaimed to the trembling do-
minican: "Stand, thou base wretch, thy last hour has come!
Thus at length shalt thou meet an end worthy of thy dis-
graceful life." The cowardly monk fell upon his knees be-
fore the angry knight and deprecated his wrath, begging
him to spare his life. Checking his passion, Hiitten merely
gave him a few blows with the flat of his sword and then
said, " Nay, I would not soil my sword with such blood as
thine," and allowed him to go his way.1

On his journey Hiitten everywhere heard that his life was
in the greatest danger and that the pope had enjoined Jllbert
of Mainz, upon pain of his sore displeasure, to use all his
efforts to send him a prisoner to Rome. So well known was
this fact that many of his former friends first became shy,
and then entirely forsook him. Of this number was the
celebrated Erasmus, who had not only carried on an active
correspondence with him, but had also spoken of him in
terms of the highest admiration, as for instance in the pre-
face to his edition of the New Testament published in 1516,
where he mentions him as one of the men of whom Germany
had reason to be proud on account of his services in the ad-
vancement of literature. But as Ilutten became bold, the
timid Erasmus got alarmed. He had no disposition to for-
feit the favor and the pensions of the pope and princes who
were his patrons, and, of course, as he himself acknow-

'Wagenseil 109.

294 ULRICH VON HUTTEN.

ledged, did not feel any call to become a martyr. In this we
may pity his weakness and want of firm principle, but his
subsequent treatment of Hutten is a blot upon his character,
which all his services to literature and the Reformation,
great as we must acknowledge them to be, cannot obliterate.

Strongly contrasted with this is the disinterested generos-
ity of Hutten. He had now become fully reconciled to his
father, who was proud of his well-earned fame, but no soon-
er had he become proscribed than he wrote to him and the
other members of his family, not to send him any letters or
money lest they should become implicated in his difficulties.
And when, in the following year, he had by his father's
death, succeeded to his estate as his eldest son, he voluntarily
renounced them in favor of his brothers, whom he determin-
ed not to involve in his misfortunes.

From Landstuhl and Ebernburg, the two strongholds of
Sickingen, where alone his life was secure, lie continued to
publish various appeals to his countrymen, particularly his
famous, " Address to the Emperor Charles V." a poem upon
" The burning of Luther's Books" and after the diet of
Worms in 1521, " Invectives'''' against the pope's legates
Alexander and Caraccioli, and against the cardinals, bishops,
and priests who opposed Luther at Worms, being an appeal
to the emperor in Luther's behalf. In these and many simi-
lar works he kept no terms with the pope and his creatures
but held them up to the execration of Germany and of all
Christendom. It was about this time that Charles V. very
unexpectedly took Hutten into his service and under his pro-
tection, giving him an annual pension of two hundred gold
florins. He was with the emperor in his ill-fated expedition
into Rothingia in 1521, and it appears to have been at this
time that he levied a fine of two thousand florins upon the

ULRICH VON HUTTEN. 295

Carthusians of Schledstadt in consequence of their having
shamefully abused the picture of his bosom friend Sickin-
gen. Soon after this he left the emperor's service, as it
seemed to be a condition of his favor that he should imitate
his master in his cautious policy and apparent servility to-
wards Rome — this it was not in the nature of Hutten to do.
He therefore returned to Ebernburg. But here also his
stay was short. Sickingen had now become involved in that
contest with the arch-bishop of Treves and his allies, in
which he finally lost his life and his all. There is no doubt
that Hutten entered most heartily into his quarrel, for he had
it for his object, as he himself expresses it, "to deliver the
people from the heavy and unchristian yoke of the clergy
and bring them to the easy laws and genuine freedom of the
gospel. I am prepared to suffer death for the sake of the
gospel ; God's will be done." After his unsuccessful cam-
paign in the summer of 1522, knowing that the allies were
preparing for a most vigorous attack upon him in the follow-
ing year, and sensible that he had not a sufficient force to re-
sist them, he sent away all those who could be of no service
to him in the hour of battle and who would be at all endan-
gered by falling into the hands of their enemies. Among
these was Hutten who had now for some months suffered
from that disease which finally terminated his life. He was
compelled, therefore, once more to go forth upon his wan-
derings which henceforward were to find no resting place
this side of the grave. Sickingen, as is well known, fell
mortally wounded by a beam forced from the wall of his
castle by the artillery of his besiegers, and died on the 7th
of May 1523. Luther hearing of this melancholy event ex-
claimed : " The Lord is just but iconderful. He will not aid
his gospel by the sword"

296 ULRICH VON HUTTEN.

In company with Bucer and Oecolampadius, Hutten mean-
time, retired into Switzerland, where he took up his abode
at Basel, by the magistrates of which place he was received
in the most friendly and honorable manner. But here also,
he unfortunately met Erasmus, who, as we have intimated
above, had first become cold and then decidedly hostile to
him. The warmhearted and generous Hutten proposed a
reconciliation, but the selfish and politic Erasmus politely
declined having intercourse with a man upon whom the tem-
pest of adversity was so fiercely beating. Conscious of his
baseness, he sought to excuse himself by writing to their
friends, in a manner the most injurious and disrespectful to
Hutten. One of these letters having been published —
brought out Hutten's "Expostulation?'' in which Erasmus'
failings were very pungently exposed. So enraged was the
subject of this castigation that he wrote to the magistrates
of Strasburg demanding the punishment of the printer who
had published the " Expostulation," and when told that the
man had a wife and family dependent upon his labor, he re-
plied, "It would have been better for him to have begged
or to have sold his wife's honor than to acquire bread for
wife and children by such libels." He also replied to Hut-
ten in a work entitled " Erasmus' Sponge," with which he
endeavored to wipe off the charges made against him. Here
the mild and refined Erasmus who was always complaining
of the coarseness and violence of such men as Luther and
Hutten, entirely forgets himself, and indulges in language the
most abusive and indecent, whilst he attempts to overwhelm
his unfortunate but noble adversary by imputing to him vices
and crimes of the most serious character. But before this
shameful effusion of vanity and spleen made its appearance,
its illustrious author had aimed another blow at Hutten.
Finding his situation insecure elsewhere he had retired to

ITLRICH VON HUTTEN. 297

Zurich, whither he had been invited by Ziringll Erasmus,
having first failed in rendering Zwingli hostile to him, next
wrote to the magistrates of Zurich, portraying him as a
most dangerous man. Leo X. sent a communication at the
same time, threatening the city with destruction if it afforded
Hutten protection or assistance. Against the charges of
Erasmus he defended himself in a manner so mild and dig-
nified, that one would think that he had some idea that this
was to he his last effort upon earth.

So in fact it proved, and neither the revilings of a treach-
erous friend nor the threats of a merciless tyrant injured
him against whom they were directed. His health was now
so much shattered that he could attend to nothing else. In
the vain hope of recovering it, he went to Ufna, an island in
the lake of Zurich, where there resided a country pastor of
the name of ScJmcgg, who was considered skilful in the
medical profession. But Hutten was now beyond the reach
of medicine. He expired in the month of August, 1523, in
the thirty-sixth year of his age.

Thus lived and died, Ulrich von Hutten, a man of rare
genius, who might have lived at ease in the courts of kings,
or held distinguished posts in their armies, had he not pre-
ferred truth and liberty to every thing else. Ever true to
his motto, " The die is cast — J dare" he never for a moment
compromised his principles, and however much mistaken he
may have been as to the best means of campassing his ends,
he never moved, either in prosperity or adversity, to aban-
don them. And though no tomb nor inscription now mark
the place where his ashes repose, his writings, sword and
pen, wrhich were all of his earthly possessions that he left
behind him, have raised him a monument and carved and
emblazoned upon it a renown which will go down to the re-
motest posterity.

FACSIMILE OF MELANCTHON'S AUTOGRAPH.

IsaicE. lix.

Und ich mache diesen Bunde mit dir, spricht der Herr.
Mein Geist, der bey dir ist, und mein wort, die ich in deinen
mund gelegt habe, sollen von deinem mund nicht weichen,
noch von dem mund deines Samens und Kindes-Kind, spricht
der Herr, von nu an biss in Ewigkeit.

Diesen Trost sollen vvir wol merken, dass der Ewige Gott
seine Kirche erhalten wille fiir und fur, nemlich das Volk,
das Gottes wort bekennen wirt, darumb es nit von Tiirken
oder andern Tyrannen uffgefressen wirt, so fern wir Gottes
wort lernen, lieben und bekennen.

Philippus Melancthon. 1543.

TRANSLATION.
Isaiah lix. (21.)

" And I make this covenant with thee, saith the Lord; my
spirit that is upon thee, and my words which I have put in
thy mouth, shall not depart out of thy mouth, nor out of the
mouth of thy seed, nor of thy seed's seed, saith the Lord,
from henceforth and for ever."

It is indeed consoling to observe that the eternal God will
preserve his church for ever and ever, — that is, the people
who shall profess the word of God; hence that word of God
shall never be exterminated by Turks or other tyrants, as
long as we learn, love and profess it.

Philippus Melancthon. 1543.

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THE DIET OF WORMS.

BY N. C. BROOKS.

Slow sinking o'er Worm's lofty spires
The day-god quenched his living fires,
And, as his tints of mellowed light
Were blending with the shades of night,
A herald passed whose trumpet's sound
Pierced the calm evening air around,
And every listening bosom stirred,
As if the Archangel's voice were heard.

Roused by that trump, crowds filled the street,
With hum of voice and tramp of feet,
And gazed, with panting breast, the while,
From pave and window, dome and tile,
While a lone monk, with solemn pace,
Followed a marshal with his mace
Who led him to the hall where stood,
The bitter foes that sought his blood.

Threading their way through crowds that part
Before the halberd and the dart,
The marshal and the monk pass o'er
The threshold of that fearful door;
And stand half-blinded by the rays
Of flambeaux that around them blaze,
And bicker from polished steel and gold,
The arms and blazonry of old.
A princely crowd the hall displayed
In gorgeous pomp and pride arrayed,
18

302 THE DIET OF WORMS.

The ermine, and the priestly lace

The bishop's crook — the marshal's mace—

The ducal hat — the purple robe —

The sceptre, crown and golden globe,

With every circumstance elate

Of pomp and power, in church and state.

High 'mid the hall upon a throne
Whose power the parted globe did own,
The imperial monarch held his seat,
With kings — priests — princes at his feet,
All eager on the monk to take
Revenge by honds or steel or stake.
Before that concourse stern and proud,
With brows dark as the thunder cloud,
And curling lip and flashing eye
Like lightning from a troubled sky ;
Under the sovereign pontiff's ban
And interdict of God and man,
The great Reformer rose, at length,
In the calm confidence of strength,
Which heaven vouchsafed him to oppose
The craft and malice of his foes,
His weapon truth— his shield from harm,
The mighty, everlasting arm.

Before the crowd, the holy man,
With dauntless breast, his speech began,
Boldly denounced th' ambitious pride
That spread o'er earth its empire wide,
• And sought in servile thrall to bind
At once the conscience and the mind,
And make the pontiff's earthly nod,
Above the will and word of God ;
Assailed the avarice that sold
The lives and souls of men for gold

THE DIET OF WORMS. 303

And made a God pure and sublime

A pander unto lust and crime ;

And justified the rights untaught

Of conscience, judgment and free thought.

Fervour and truth, with matchless grace,
Like heavenly light illumed his face ;
And forth the powerful accents broke
Like inspiration as he spoke.
With parted lips and brows upraised
The breathless concourse sat amazed ;
And at his words conviction stole
With power resistless o'er the soul.
Confirmed in faith the doubtful rose,
Dumb and confounded were his foes —
The powerful curbed — the wicked awed
By the restraining hand of God ;
And that lone monk forsook the hall
The dread of many and wonder of all —
The church and empire had assailed,
But simple truth o'er both prevailed.

Then Martin Luther's fearless hand,
Lifting the heaven-avenging brand,
Dealt on the triple crown a blow
That laid the pontiff's honors low;
And shivered the sceptre that he swayed
In guilt and blood o'er earth dismayed.
Heaven vindicate what he began,
God's glory and the rights of man;
Till from that crumbling throne of guilt,
Enpurpled with the blood it spilt,
Blasphemous Antichrist he hurled
And papal error fled from the enlightened world.

LUTHER.

"I observe," says Erasmus, speaking to a Cardinal, "that
the more irreproachable men's morals, and the more evan-
gelical their piety, the less they are opposed to Luther. His
life is commended even by those who cannot endure his
opinions. The world was weary of a method of teaching
in which so many puerile fictions and human inventions were
mixed up and thirsted for that living, pure, and hidden
stream which flows from the veins of the apostles and evan-
gelists. The genius of Luther was such as fitted him for
these things, and his zeal would naturally take fire at so no-
ble an enterprize."

The Elector of Saxony asked Erasmus his opinion of
Luther, he replied, " I am not at all surprised that he has
occasioned so much disturbance, for he has committed two
unpardonable offences — he has attacked the tiara of the
pope, and the bellies of the monks."

" I have often wondered," says Melancthon, " how he
could live with so little food ; I have known him, though in
good health, to abstain from food entirely for four days, and
often for many days together, to be content with a little

bread and a herring."

bread and a herring."

lofm ©tcoi8m»a»utaf.

JOHN OECOLAMPADIUS.

When the principal actors in the Reformation in Ger-
many and Switzerland are presented to our view in their in-
dividuality, we are apt to fancy that we behold many con-
trarieties that are altogether irreconcilable. And yet we
find that, from this very dissimilarity of genius and temper-
ament, they have mutually supported and assisted each other
in their common stupendous enterprise. Thus, in Saxony
stood forth the fiery, God-inspirited Luther, side by side
with the gentle, cautious and learned Melancthon ; and the
ardent Zwingli, burning with zeal for the glorious cause
found in John Oecolampadius, a friend and ally, against
whose mild and quiet disposition the stormy waves of the
times broke in peace.

The German name of this excellent man was Itausscliein,
but is more generally known in its Greek translation, Oeco-
lampadius. This Melancthon of Switzerland was descended
from a Swiss family, and born in the year 1482, at Weins-
berg in Franconia. It was his father's wish that he should
become a merchant; but conformably with the views of his
mother, who longed to see him a man of learning, he was
sent to Heilbrun, and thence to the University of Heidelberg,
where he took his bachelor's degree at the age of fourteen.
He afterwards went to Bologna in Italy to study jurispru-
dence ; but finding very little satisfaction in these pursuits,
he left it after a residence of six months, in order to devote

308 JOHN OECOLAMPADIUS.

himself to divinity. At Stuttgardt he studied Greek under
the erudite Reuchlin, of whom he learned that copious lan-
guage in less time than afterwards he did Hebrew from a
Spaniard. His grammar in the former tongue is an eminent
proof of the proficiency which he attained.

After the conclusion of his academic studies, Oecolampa-
dius became preacher at Weinsberg, and in that capacity
commended himself greatly by the sobriety, gentleness and
discretion of his behavior, which were the more striking
from their contrast with the malicious and giddy gossiping
of the priests around him. Capito, formerly preacher at
Bruchsal, had become acquainted with Oecolampadius at
Heidelberg, where he conceived a great affection for him ;
and being at that time stationed at Basel, he desired nothing
more fervently than that his friend might follow him thither.
He was gratified; Oecolampadius left Weinsberg in 1515,
and was installed minister of the principal church at Basel.
Here he met with the famous Erasmus, whom he afforded
eminent aid in preparing his edition of the Greek Testament,
enjoying in return the benefit of that various information
which his friend is known to have so abundantly possessed.
During his ministry at Basel, we have no grounds for sup-
posing that the pure doctrines of the gospel were here dis-
seminated by Oecolampadius. Indeed he did not stay long ;
for in 1516, he left it and went as cathedral preacher to
Augsburg. Neither did he long continue here, having sud-
denly come to the determination to enter the monastery of
Altenmunster. Perhaps he found the world of business too
exciting, and thought by retreating from its tumultuous con-
cerns, to pass his life in delicious and sequestered contem-
plation. Although he did not exclude the prospect of one
day returning to active life, yet as might have been expect-

JOHN OECOLAMPADIUS. 309

ed, his friends, and especially Erasmus, Pirkheimer and
Capito were much grieved at so unexpected and singular a
procedure.

It was here his acquaintance with Luther's writings be-
gan; and he was presently so captivated by the sentiments
of that distinguished man, that he wrote to one of his friends :
" I put such an estimate upon many of his doctrines, that
even though an angel from heaven were to oppose him, I
should not be persuaded to refuse him my approbation."
But the very attachment which Oecolampadius manifested
for Luther, together with the intrepidity he displayed in
attacking superstition, in censuring abuses, in denying that
the mass was a sacrifice for the living or the dead, and more
than all, in writing against auricular confession, so brought
upon him the hatred and persecution of his lay-brethren and
superiors, that he was finally compelled to take refuge in
precipitate flight. He hastened to the brave German knight
Francis Von Sickingen, whose castle of Ebernburg was
then open for refuge to all who were oppressed for righte-
ousness sake. Already Martin Bucer, Schwebel, Agricola,
and Ulrich Von Hiitten, had congregated in this retreat, so
that the last mentioned of these reformers, Hutten, the De-
mosthenes of Germany had some reason to call it, as he did,
" the house of the just." Oecolampadius preached daily,
until the difficulties of Sickingen, which concluded with the
rout and death of that powerful baron, obliged him in 1523,
to dismiss his friends and guests. They dispersed in various
directions; and Oecolampadius returning to Basel, stayed
with a printer named Andrew Cratander, who afforded him
employment and subsistence. He was here appointed third
professor of theology, and afterwards substitute of the infirm
and superannuated preacher of St. Martin's church.

310 JOHN OECOLAMPADIUS.

Luther wrote him under date of June 20th, 1524, con-
gratulating him on his departure from the monastery, and
exhorting him to perseverance in the faith of his choice, and
continuance in all good works. Oecolampadius contracted a
friendship for Zwingli also, which heing ardently reciprocat-
ed, they were ever afterwards firmly united together in the
great work of the Reformation. As on the one hand, he
was elevated and inspirited hy continual communion with
these lion-hearted heroes ; so on the other, they, when they
seemed to hlow the flame too violently, were admonished by
the commendations which he did not fail to make in behalf
of gentleness and forbearance. The enticements which were
repeatedly held out to separate him from the Reformation
party he knew full well how to withstand ; and universally,
whenever the best interests of religion were at stake, he
showed himself equally undaunted and firm.

In 1524, a wider field for exertion was opened to Oeco-
lampadius by the functionary's decease, whose substitute he
had been, and his consequent position both as deacon and
priest of St. Martins. The former office he relinquished ;
and entered upon the other on the express condition that he
should be allowed full freedom in preaching, and liberty to
reject the practices of the Romish church whenever they
fell under his disapprobation. Having received this conces-
sion from the church-wardens and vestry, he thenceforth
baptized the children in German, administered the Eucharist
under both forms, and endeavored to rectify the erroneous
notions of the people about church ordinances. He discon-
tinued holy water, and rejected other sinful or useless abuses
that had crept into the service. But not merely as a preacher
did he promote the growth of the Reformation ; but he stood
forth as an author also ; and his writings conciliated multi-

JOHN OECOLAMPADIUS. 311

tudes who befriended and revered him, both in his own land
and foreign parts.

When in the year 1525, the strife, so famous for its un-
happy consequences, arose between the Saxon and Swiss
Reformers concerning the doctrine of the LorcTs Supper,
Oecolampadius likewise was forced upon the stage, however
little his natural temperament disposed him to such contro-
versies. In his first work on this occasion, " De genuina
verborum Domini, Hoc est corpus meum ; juxta vetustissi-
mos auctores, expositione liber," he drew upon himself the
attacks of some learned men, who combatted his opinion
that the words, " this is my body," are to be understood fig-
uratively, and not as significant of any actual presence. But
in this production bearing, as it did, the impress of a quiet and
mild, though at the same time of a learned and acute man,
he treated his opponents with a magnanimity and forbearance
far more laudable than the bitterness and warmth to which
Zwingli was addicted. He did not even honor many of his
antagonists with a rejoinder; and it was only with Luther
and Pirkheimer, whom he regarded and loved as friends,
that he closed in this polemic struggle.

Though involved in these unfortunate and distracting con-
troversies, he did not in the least neglect the congregation
committed to his care ; but continued his efforts to instruct
and improve them by preaching, by writing, and by the pure
example which he presented in the holiness of his life. At
the discussion which in 1526 was carried on in Baden, he
had to do with Eck of Ingolstadt, so infamous for the vanity
and scurrility which he was wont to mingle with every thing
he said ; and whilst the latter defeated his own object by the
very tediousness of his needless digressions and his misera-
ble subterfuges, the Reformer won over many hearts by his

312 JOHN OECOLAMPADIUS.

discreet and gentlemanly conduct. It is an evidence of his
piety that he began every public act with prayer.

At the age of forty-five, following the example of his
friends Zvvingli and Capito, he married. His choice was
Vibrandis Rosenblat, a young widow, by whom he had three
children, Eusebius, Irena and Alithea. After his death this
lady enjoyed the singular felicity of being successively uni-
ted to Capito and Bucer, two others among the most distin-
guished of the Reformers.

The new doctrines were, chiefly through the efforts of
Oecolampadius, introduced at Basel, and in 1529 were dis-
placing the Romish system, when the Anabaptists began
anew to disturb the peace. On this occasion Oecolampa-
dius was very solicitous to teach them in his usual mild way ;
yet he prospered so poorly that his very life was in danger
at Leuffelsinger, a place inhabited for the most part by Ana-
baptists, where he was preaching at the instance of the city-
council of Basel. During his sermon, one of the people
stood up, and instigated the congregation to hurl the defend-
er of infant baptism from the pulpit — " Let him stand forth,"
answered the servant of the Lord, " who can prove that I
teach false and unscriplural doctrine." Oecolampadius wras
saved from the hands of the excited mob by the providential
interposition of the police-officer.

With respect to the unfortunate Servetus, who came to
Basel in 1530, and was subsequently burnt for heresy at
Geneva, he conducted himself in the most upright and hon-
orable manner; for, distinguishing with great consideration
between the man and his errors, which he combatted, he re-
fused to take any advantage of his situation, when in Basel,
to the injury of his person. The golden wrords of Oecol-

JOHN OBCOLAMPADIUS. 313

ampadius, which are found in a letter to Farel, deserve to
be taken to heart both now and forever : " Men do not
want," he wrote, " a rough driver, but a gentle leader ; and
our vocation makes it our duty to conduct them, in all gen-
tleness lo Jesus. If we would prosper with our talents,, it
is indispensably necessary that we act with the spirit of
meekness, patience, love and faith. We are made christian
teachers to bless — not to curse."

In the autumn of 1529 Oecolampadius set out with Zwin-
gli, Bucer and Hedio for Marburg, where Luther, Melanc-
thon, Justus Jonas, Berentius and Agricola had already ar-
rived, in order, according to the desire and invitation of the
Landgrave Philip of Hesse, to hold a conference about the
doctrine of the eucharist. By a wise arrangement, which
had been previously brought about by confidential interviews,
the Landgrave put Zwingli and Melanclhon together on the
one hand, and Luther and Oecolampadius on the other; in
hopes that perhaps the greater vehemence and zeal of the
principal Reformers, might yield to the prudent, gentle and
pacific dispositions of each others companions. But alas!
long as this interview lasted, it was as little satisfactory and
conciliatory in its issue as the public debates which it was
intended to heal. When we celebrate with thanks to God,
the blessed memories of the great revivers of the evangeli-
cal church — those exalted spirits, Luther and Zwingli, who
were filled with the power of God and truth, and united in
every essential of religion ; who can think of them, now
that they are in the glory of heaven — who can think of them
otherwise, than as brother angels, worshipping in closest com-
munion of love at the throne of their common Father? If
remembrance can cause a sigh to the blessed spirits above,

314 JOHN OECOLAMPADIUS.

oh ! will not that breath of sorrow be for the contentions
they waged while joined with the frailties and infirmities of
flesh? And if the everlasting tumult of this ruined world
pierce with its din the mansions of love, will not the saddest
tear that angels can shed for man, fall for the divisions,
which, in the spirit they themselves once fomented, vex and
rend the church of Christ?

After the close of this unhappy conference, Oecolampa-
dius pursued the peaceful tenor of his life, purifying the
churches of Ulm, Memingen and Biderach, and continuing
his evangelical labors in the congregations and schools at
Basel. But in October, 1531, he was destined to feel the
bitterness of losing his beloved Zwingli, his most faithful
friend and constant coadjutor in the cause of the gospel. If
his death was an irremediable loss to Zurich, it made upon
Oecolampadius an impression so deep and enduring, that he
did not long survive his friend. From that time he felt an
observable decline of his faculties ; and in prospect of his
approaching death, he assembled about him the Swiss
clergymen, commended to them the affairs of the church in
the most moving manner, exhorted them to courage and zeal
in the ministry, and warned them against divisions, negli-
gence and the fear of man. His children he commended to
his mourning wife, step-mother and relatives, and enjoined
them to bring them up that they might become as they were
called, " pious, peaceful and true," — for that is the mean-
ing of their christian names. With great resignation, and
jo)7ful assurance he now saw his end approaching. On
the 1st of December, he fell asleep quietly as he had
lived. The spectators knelt down by his bedside and
prayed.

JOHN OECOLAMPADIUS. 315

In the cloister of Monster at Basel, his body was deposit-
ed and a Latin inscription engraven on his tomb, to the fol-
lowing effect:

Under this stone lies Dr. John Oecolampadius,

Preacher of the gospel, mighty in

Three languages, the first teacher

Of evangelical truth in this town,

And the bishop of this temple.

As was his teaching, so was his life,

Remarkable for holiness — Died 1st Dec.

1531, in the 49th year of his age.

COMPARATIVE VIEW

OF THE

PRIMITIVE CHURCH OF CHRIST

AND

THAT OF THE EARLY REFORMERS.

BT REV. S. S. SCHMUCKER, D. D.

The Providence of God has wisely so ordered, that .the
progress of human intellect, both in physical and religious
knowledge, is almost invariably gradual. Even the most
towering minds generally occupy a station, less in advance
of their predecessors than is usually supposed. The prior
and preparatory steps of improvement, are less known to
after ages. They are more rarely blazoned forth on the
page of history, whilst the biography of the favored indi-
vidual, who had the good fortune to gather the pre-existent
elements of illumination, and concentrate their rays to the
burning point; who prosecuted the accumulated premises to
their conclusions, and made the practical application to his
age, of those principles which others cherished in theory,
without carrying them into empyric life, is written in capi-
tals and his merits magnified, even undesignedly, to the com-
parative disadvantage of others. Detached fragments of
truth are successively elaborated by different intellects, but
they are a rude and indigested mass, until some master-mind
strikes out the happy thought of their connexion, which
links them together, and chrystallizes them into permanent

COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH OF 317

form and symmetry. The discovery of the principle of
universal gravitation, is usually attributed to Sir Isaac New-
ton; but it is not so generally known, that his cotemporary
Hooke, had fallen upon some of its elements, so that he
charged Sir Isaac, before the Philosophical Society, with
having wrested his property from him, and himself claimed
to be the discoverer. But although there are occasional
strides in the progiess of human improvements, although a
particular individual may nationalize elements of light which
were before the property of a few, although a fortunate or
rather providential event may push to their consequences the
principles which had been merely theoretical before; the
most perfect human improvements are still imperfect, and,
however glorious any revolution or reformation either civil
or ecclesiastical may be, it should always remain open, both
in its principles and details to new investigations and further
improvement.

Such, both as to its origin and progress, was the glorious
Reformation of the sixteenth century, an event produced by
God, not by miracle, but in accordance with the analogies
of his Providence, through the instrumentality of a chosen
band of Spartan w'arriors, with Luther at their head. De-
tached elements of this memorable renovation of the church,
had been mastered by kindred spirits of a prior age, by a
Wickliffe, a Stickna, a Milicz, a Huss, a Jerome, a Gerson,
a Savonarola; but it remained for the Saxon reformer to
combine all these elements into a whole, and to accumulate
such a weight of influence upon the lever of reform, as
eventually to unhinge the papacy itself, and cast its machi-
nery out of gear in a large portion of Europe. The object
of the reformers was to restore the church to the principles
of the apostolic age, and they accomplished much, though

318 CHRIST AND THAT OF THE EARLY REFORMERS. ""

not all, to which they themselves aspired. Let us cast a
glance at the points of resemblance, and then of discord, be-
tween the primitive church and that of the Reformation.

Tired of the numberless rites, and ceremonies, and bur-
densome dogmas, imposed on the church by the usurped
authority of her rulers, the reformers were early led to .in-
quire, whether indeed God had delegated to any man the
right to lord it over the conscience of his fellows. Nor
was it long before they reached a firm foundation on this
fundamental point. Although in the earlier stages of that
reformation, of which he was alike the agent and the sub-
ject, Luther had appealed from the pope to a general coun-
cil ; it was not long before he went a step farther, and in-
stead of a general council, appealed uniformly to the infalli-
ble records of inspiration. He was soon taught to see, that
" the scriptures are able to make us wise unto salvxuo..,"
and that as they were designed by a God of infinite wisdom,
to make "the man of God perfect, thoroughly furnished
unto every good work," they must be adequate to this pur-
pose; and the rulers of the church had erred not knowing,
or rather not wishing to know the scriptures themselves, nor
permitting the people to know them. Luther therefore soon
"gave heed to the more sure word of prophecy," and ceased
to " bid God speed to all who taught another doctrine," and
in this was followed by all the other reformers.' The bulls
of popes, the decrees of councils and tradition, or the so-
called unanimous consent of conflicting fathers, were soon
exchanged for the apostolical principle, that infallibility be-
longs alone to inspiration ; and that since the apostles have
gone to their rest, this inspiration we can find only in the
genuine records of their living instructions, the sacred vo-
lume.

COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH OF 319

In the interpretation of these records, however, some di-
versity was soon found to exist as to their import on minor
points ; and the question arose, who shall decide, every in-
dividual for himself, or the popes and councils for the whole
church? In preceding- ages, when it was said, "Rome has
spoken," the point in controversy was regarded as settled.
At least no one dared to agitate it any longer, lest the tor-
tures of the inquisition or the flames of an Auto de Fe,
should bring him to silence. But the times wrere changed,
and men began to think for themselves and to speak as they
thought. The reformers knew that Rome decided disputed
points, not by any superior scales for ascertaining the pre-
ponderance of evidence, but by an authoritative declaration
of what pleased her best, and by coercive injunction of si-
lence. They knew that among the mitred heads, in con-
clave or in council assembled, there was no more unanimity
than among the same number of private individuals. They
searched the scriptures, and found that even among primitive
christians such diversities existed, and were not regarded
as a barrier to ecclesiastical communion and recognition.
They heard Paul say, " Him that is weak in the faith (who
has doubts on some points) receive ye," but not in order to
engage in disputations with him about doubtful matters."
"Who art thou that judgest another man's servant? To his
own master he standeth or falleth. " Let every man" act as
he is " fully persuaded in his own mind." Here was the
right of private judgment fully awarded to all, and the re-
formers felt its necessity to their own justification, and in
theory conceded it to others. History informs us, that for
three hundred years after the apostles, all were admitted to
the church, notwithstanding minor differences, provided they
only received and professed the so-called Apostolic confes-
19

320 CHRIST AND THAT OF THE EARLY REFORMERS.

sion, which contains none of the sectarian peculiarities of
modern times, but only those fundamental facts and doctrines,
in which all evangelical protestant denominations agree.
Something approximating to this was adopted in theory by
the reformers at the diet of Augsburg. They say in their
notable confession, the mother symbol of Protestantism,
" For the true unity of the church, nothing more is required
than agreement concerning the doctrines of the gospel, and
the administration of the sacraments. Nor is it necessary
that the same human traditions, that is, rites and ceremonies
instituted by men, should be every where observed."1 And
although the summary of doctrines contained in this confes-
sion contains but few of minor importance;- yet the fact that
these few were not expunged, when this confession was after-
ward made a test of ecclesiastical communion, gave rise to
the unhappy schism in the Protestant church. Luther him-
self composed a directory for worship for the Saxon churches
in 1526, but he at the same time expressly declared that it
was designed for Saxony alone, and that even there it ought
not to remain unaltered.

Having adopted the Bible as the only infallible rule of
faith and practice, the reformers could of course not acknow-
ledge the pope of Rome as head of the church, any more than
the high-priest of Buddism, or the grand lama of Thibet.
For they looked in vain in that holy record, for the authori-
ty by which the misnamed holy fathers had lorded it over
God's heritage. They found, indeed, in that sacred volume
sundry descriptions, strikingly characteristic of the papal
hierarchy. They read of one, " Who opposeth and exalt-
eth himself above all that is called God, or that is worship-
ped, so that he as God sitteth in the temple of God, shew-

1 Augsburg Confession. Art. VII.

91

COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH OF 321

ing himself that he is God ;" hut then this individual they
also found denounced as " that man of sin, the son of perdi-
tion," and therefore they could have no fellowship with him.
They accordingly maintained that christians and christian
ministers have but one master, Christ, and that they are all
brethren;" that, by divine right, all ministers of Christ are
of equal rank. Some subordination and diversity of powers,
was indeed adopted by the early reformers, but it was ex-
pressly done by human, and not by divine authority. Even
in Denmark and Sweden, where the Lutheran church em-
ploys the term bishop, to designate those ministers to whom
the supervision of a given district is confided, divine author-
ity is no more appealed to than in Germany where they are
called superintendents.

In order to enable men conscientiously to prosecute the
study of the holy volume, it was necessary that they be lib-
erated from the fear of persecution, either by the civil or
ecclesiastical authorities. Rome had hitherto converted her-
etics by fire and sword, and thus deterred men from the im-
partial scrutiny of her doctrines. But the reformers felt the
value of that civil protection in their religious investigations,
vouchsafed to them by Providence, through the instrumen-
tality of their Frederick the Wise. The same immunity
from civil disabilities, which they had themselves enjoyed,
Luther and Melanchthon solicited the Elector to extend to
the Anabaptists, who differed from them ; although it is to
be regretted, that, at a later day, the mild Melancthon him-
self approved the severity practiced against Servetus. Lu-
ther, however, faithfully and nobly persevered in his advo-
cacy of liberty of conscience and hostility to persecution.
"Do you say (affirms Luther,) the civil government should
indeed not force men to believe, but only interfere in order

322 CHRIST AND THAT OF THE EARLY REFORMERS.

that the people be not led astray by false doctrine? and, how
could heretics otherwise be put down ? I answer, to counter-
act heresy is the business of ministers, not of the civil ru-
lers. Here a different course must be pursued, and other
weapons than the sword must fight these battles. The word
of God must here contend ; if this proves unavailing, neither
can civil governments remedy the evil, though they should
deluge the earth in blood. Heresy is an intellectual thing,
that cannot be hewn by the sword, nor burned with fire, nor
drowned with water. The word of God alone can subdue
it, as Paul says, " The weapons of our warfare are not car-
nal, but mighty through God, to the pulling down of strong-
holds, casting down imaginations, and every high thing that
exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing
into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ."
Thus clearly did this noble reformer plant himself on the
ground of the apostles ! Would that many of his followers,
not excepting even some of those who bore his own name,
had not forsaken this tolerant "principle ; would that they had
exhibited more confidence in the truth, and had more con-
stantly felt as did the poet :

" The weapons of our holy war,
Of what almighty force they are."

These are some of the points of coincidence between the
views of the early reformers and those of the primilive
church of Christ, some of the intellectual achievements ac-
complished by these moral heroes. But their work was hu-
man, and therefore not perfect ; and it may be profitable to
glance at some of its defects, that we may labor for their
removal.

They failed to make provision for the continued prosecu-
tion of the work of reform. Luther had wisely regarded the

COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH OF 323

reformation as unfinished, and exhorted his followers to turn
away from his work and stud}- the Bible more attentively.
" I have not kept a list (he says, in a letter to Ursinus,) of
my publications, nor have I all the works themselves ; for I
desire much rather that the Bible alone should be studied in-
stead of my works." But unfortunately for the cause of
truth and peace, the admiration of many of his followers de-
generated into excessive veneration ; and death which trans-
lated him to the abodes of peace in heaven, made his wri-
tings the occasion of rancorous contention on earth, and im-
parted a kind of canonical authority to them. Moreover, as
the church established by his instrumentality, was designa-
ted by his name, his works were gradually regarded as the
standard of orthodoxy, and all attempts to continue the work
of reformation so gloriously commenced by him, were de-
nounced as treason to his cause. " Even during his life-time,
says the distinguished historian, Henke, there were some
who followed him with a slavish servility. A species of
canonization of this great man had already taken place ; and
he was not unfrequently known by the names, Megalander,
man of God, second Elias, the last prophet, &c, and when
he died, it seemed as if an oracle had been struck dumb."
Had not the church, notwithstanding his violent protest
against such a course, been denominated by his name ; had
not his works but the Bible been regarded as the grand
source of religious light, as the grand subject of continued
study, and had the Augsburg Confession alone been received
as an auxiliary test, and even the mode of the Saviour's pre-
sence in the eucharist been stricken from that, the church
would have enjoyed much more peace, and the whole field
of doctrine, except the few points determined in that con-
fession, would have been open to free, continued study and
scrutiny in the light of God's word.

324 CHRIST AND THAT OF THE EARLY REFORMERS.

Moreover, as no provision was made for the occasional
meeting of ministers and lay-elders in sy nodical assemblies,
as the minister held his office from the civil government, and
could undertake no material alterations even in the ceremo-
nies and mode of worship, except by consent of the govern-
ment, the rites and forms at first adopted, could not be im-
proved without great difficulty ; although Luther himself
declared that they would need further reform. In the Luth-
eran church in this country, where we are not hampered by
connexion with the State, the true principles of Lutheranism
and of Protestantism, that the Bible is the only infallible rule
has been more fully carried out and a better practice has
been attained. The General Synod of the America Luther-
an church has adopted only the doctrinal articles of the
Augsburg Confession, and, in the Synods connected with
her, ministers are required to profess, that they believe the
fundamental doctrines of the scriptures to be taught in that
symbol in a manner substantially correct. Sufficient latitude
is thus given for free investigation of the word of God, and
for minor diversities of opinion, without the danger of eccle-
siastical disabilities. And yet there is as much harmony of
doctrinal views in this church as in any other.

Again, the reformers failed to make the necessary provi-
sion to preserve the unity of the Protestant church in the pro-
gress of its extension. In the apostolic age, each congrega-
tion appears to have been independent of all others, except-
ing only the occasional meetings of the apostles, ministers
and lay-representatives in synod convened for counsel, as in
Acts xv. In that and the immediately succeeding centuries,
the unity of the church consisted in unity of name, unity
of fundamental doctrines, mutual acknowledgment of each
other's acts of discipline, in sacramental and ministerial com-

COMPARATIVE VIEW OF THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH OF 325

munion, and in occasional epistolary intercommunication.
Then there were no sectarian names employed to designate
different portions of the church. There was no papal
church, no Lutheran, no Presbyterian, no Methodist, no Bap-
tist church ; but only christian churches, and when it was
necessary to distinguish these, it was done by affixing the
geographical designation of their location, such as the church
at Corinth, the church at Jerusalem, the church at Antioch,
&c. But the Protestants unfortunately employed other names,
expressive of some peculiarity by which they were distin-
guished from others, thus giving prominence and perpetuity
to the points of difference. Some differences we know did
exist in the apostolic church. Some of the disciples sup-
posed, that the resurrection was already past, and others
differed as to the relative sanctity of particular days, Rom.
xiv. 1 — 13. Yet as these persons did not separate into dif-
ferent churches, and did not adopt different names and con-
fessions of faith setting forth their peculiarities ; these dif-
ferences remained private matters and soon died away. But
the Protestant churches grew up amid the convulsions inci-
dent to the Reformation, and necessary in order to wrest
themselves from the grasp of papal oppression, and thus the
church in each kingdom and province assumed some pecu-
liarity from the circumstances of its own case, and no plat-
form was established which would cover all the several por-
tions of the Protestant churches, in the different countries,
and no regular principles of mutual recognition and union
were established. Indeed this could hardly be expected,
when it is recollected, that the Romish church soon instigat-
ed some of her blind and bigotted princes to oppress, and, if
possible, subdue the Protestants by force of arms, so that
the latter had to struggle for their very existence. In the

326 CHRIST AND THAT OF THE EARLY REFORMERS.

apostolic church, we know of no other doctrinal confession,
required for admission to church membership, than " belief
in Jesus Christ as the Son of God-," Acts viii. 37, and even
until the council of Nice, in the fourth century (A. D. 325,)
no other confession was required in any part of the christian
church than the so-called apostolic creed, which all ortho-
dox Protestants could subscribe, as it contains none of the
peculiarities of either sect, but only such facts and doctrines
as they all believe. But the reformers in each of the coun-
tries of Europe, adopted specific and extended creeds, which
their brethren in other countries could not fully adopt.
Hence originated a great diversity of Protestant creeds,
each one perpetuating the minor peculiarities of its authors,
and conferring perpetuity on these differences. Had the
Protestant churches in the different countries all adopted as
a test of admission, only the confession of the first three
centuries, that is, the so-called apostles' creed, and together
with it some one brief confession containing only the addi-
tional doctrines on which they agree, leaving their members
free to differ on minor points, their unity would have been
much more prominent, most of their disputes concerning
nonfundamental doctrines would have been either prevented
or rendered more amicable because divested of ecclesiastical
disabilities, and brotherly love would have continued among
them in a much higher degree.

Yet every enlightened observer will perceive, that the dis-
cordant position of the different portions of the Protestant
church, was the result of peculiar circumstances, and not of
design ; and that, although there is difference on nonessen-
tials, there is nevertheless an undeniable unity among the so-
called orthodox churches, on all the grand and fundamental
doctrines of our holy religion; and this unity, the church

COMPARATFVE VIEW OF THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH OF 327

will hereafter learn more fully to understand and appreciate.
If it is the design of the great Head of the church, that the
Protestant denominations shall assume a more harmonious
relation to each other, our own happy country is obviously
the theatre, on which this glorious sacrifice of sectarianism
on the altar of christian love can most easily be effected.
For here we are free from civil interference with the
church, and all her interests are in the hands of her own
members. An oecumenical Protestant council about this time
might do good, consisting of delegates from all the Protest-
ant churches of our land, in equal or senatorial number, for
the purpose, not of making laws, but of passing resolutions
of mutual recognition ; and bearing testimony to the truth,
by voting their assent to the apostles' creed and some other
united Protestant confession, embracing only the doctrines
held in common by all. Such a council would give promin-
ence to the actual union of Protestants in fundamentals,
would tend greatly to promote brotherly love, and would
hasten the accomplishment of the Saviour's prayer : " Holy
Father, keep through thine own name those whom thou hast
given me, that they may he one, as we are." In reality, Pro-
testants agree as much in essentials, as does the thinking
portion of Romanists. The papal church has embraced in
her bosom as many different sects, each having its peculiar
rules and principles and obligations, as are found in the
Protestant church. Such are the Augustinians, and Domini-
cans, and Jesuits, and Jansenists, and Benedictines, and Fran-
ciscans, &c. But, whilst all these sects differed on material
points of doctrine or discipline, and often waged bitter con-
tention against each other, they all had the points of their
agreement embodied into one manual or directory for faith
and practice, which was professed by all, along with their

328 CHRIST AND THAT OF THE EARLY REFORMERS.

peculiarities. Thus their differences were almost forgotten
in their agreement, and their contentions were temporary,
and generally overruled by attachment to their church as a
whole. When Protestants learn to discriminate more clear-
ly between the fundamentals of their religion, in which they
are all agreed, and those minor points on which they differ ;
less time, and intellect, and money will be expended in intes-
tine controversy, and more be left to combat the enemies of
the cross, whether found in the ranks of professed infidels,
or amid the legions of anti-christian Rome ; and then also
will the temple of God, rebuilt by the Reformation, assume
a more beautiful and connected appearance and approximate
still nearer to its primitive perfection in the apostolic age.

FAREL, THE PRIEST-SCOURGE,

BY PROF. J. W. NEVIN, D. D.

The genius of Christianity is characteristically free. In
this respect it is broadly distinguished, not only from Mo-
hammedanism and all forms of Paganism, but from the reli-
gion, also, of the ancient Jew. u The words that I speak
unto you," said the author of it, " they are spirit and they
are life." No creed, no catechism, no system of theology,
as such, can properly measure and comprehend this life. It
is ever manifold, though always the same. The formality
of the ritual, the formality of the symbol, and the formality
of the conventicle, are alike uncongenial with its nature. It
is as free and universal as humanity itself, entering with
boundless flexibility into all modifications and peculiarities
of character, into all types of thought and feeling, into all
measures and all forms of spiritual development; not to lose
itself in the process, but powerfully to transfuse the spirit
with its own life-giving force, causing old things gradually
to pass away and all things to become new. The savage
and the sage, the inexperienced child and the full grown
man, the vulgar many and the cultivated few, men of all
skies and climes, of all races, temperaments and nations, of
all generations and historical stand-points ; all alike fall with-
in the scope of its action, and may be brought to exhibit its
regenerating presence, under phases as various as their own
variety itself. Christianity is restrained by no mountains,
bounded by no seas. Just as little can it be imprisoned by

330 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

forms and ceremonies, articles of faith, or ecclesiastical con-
stitutions of any sort. It is itself deeper than all other dis-
tinctions, more profoundly human, capable therefore of mak-
ing its way through all to the inmost life of the soul itself, in
which they have their ground. All are not apprehended by
it in the same way; but all are subjected to a fundamental
change, by which the individual existence in every case,
without being annihilated or shorn of its proper attributes,
is transmuted into such light-forms as may suit its own struc-
ture, " from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord."
In this view particularly, the early history of the church
is full of interest and instruction. It forms at once the best
commentary on the nature of religion and the clearest de-
monstration of its divine origin. Without formula or rule,
(for the theory of it as an object of science was still to be
evolved,) it wrought as the power of an inward life, omni-
potent and free, penetrating the mystery of humanity to its
deepest centre, and forming from the womb of chaos a new
world of order, light and beauty, such as it had not come
into the heart of man to conceive of before. In the midst
of all the mistakes and follies of the early church, the pre-
sence of this omnipotent life stands out every where to view,
under the most manifold and often widely different forms.
No dead sameness fatigues the eye. All is original, fresh
and free. John and Peter, James and Paul, how true each
to himself, how perfectly unlike, and yet in a deeper sense
the same. What widely different forms of existence are
presented to us in Ignatius, Polycarp, Justin Martyr, Ter-
tullian, Cyprian, Origen; and yet how the same ground tone
reigns in this difference, and binds all together again in the
harmony of the skies.

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 331

The period of the Reformation served to illustrate the
free universality of the religion of Christ, and to show its
divine character in the same way. The life of the church
had heen in a great measure traditional and mechanical for
ages before, and it has been, we may say, comparatively tra-
ditional and mechanical since. But the force that wrought
mightily in the work of the Reformation, during the first
part of the sixteenth century, was in no sense mechanical.
It was the power of a divine Zi/e, acting from itself and for
itself, in its appointed organs. The reformers, though much
employed in constructing confessions, catechisms and creeds,
for the use of the church in subsequent times, were not
themselves the product of theory or system. Their religion
was no formula. It did not spring in any sense from the
schools. Christianity, in their case, was absolutely free
again, as at the beginning. It is this especially that imparts
value to the history of the sixteenth century. A real, origi-
nal life, speaks to us in the character of the reformers,
always the same, and yet always unfolding some new side.
Almost any of them is worthy of being made the subject of
special contemplation and study. And indeed to understand
the Reformation properly, it is absolutely necessary that it
should be thus studied in the persons of its different organs,
As no one of the gospels separately taken can be said to be
a full transcript of the character of Christ, but only of one
side of his character as it was seen and apprehended by the
particular writer, and all must be united to complete the por-
trait; so can no single reformer, not even the full souled
Luther himself, represent adequately and at all points the
spirit of the vast movement, to which all belonged, and by
which all were actuated and filled in their separate spheres.
The Reformation was a general force, which no single indi-

332 FAKEL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

viduality could embody in all its proportions, tendencies and
relations. We have it under one aspect in Germany, under
another aspect in Switzerland, and under a different aspect
still in France. In the case of each country, however, it is
the same deep power, everywhere true to itself, heaving the
nations simultaneously with its presence. So it meets us
distributively also in the persons of the several individual
reformers. Manifold, but at the same time identical, in its
manifestations, its true generality is revealed, not through
Luther, Zwingli, Melancthon, Oecolampadius or Calvin,
separately taken, but through these, and the "goodly fellow-
ship" to which they belonged, collectively comprehended in
a single image. Each particular reformer may be consider-
ed a special development of the life that wrought mightily
in all. Each is adapted to shed light on the general idea of
the Reformation, though not in the same proportion nor to
the same extent. In proportion as the individual figures
which our view embraces are multiplied, the idea itself will
stand out for us always more universal, more free, and more
demonstrably worthy of God.

Among these figures, one of the most striking, even
though he should not be reckoned among the most conspicu-
ous, is presented to us in the person of William Farel,
the far famed Priest- Scourge of the South, whose honor it
was in the end to plant the standard of the Reformation in
Geneva. The reformers generally were bold and free; but
the freedom of Farel was absolutely wild. It set all rule
and all method at defiance. The Alpine hills, which gave
him birth and folded him for years in their fostering arms,
were not more original and independent. His spirit had its
fit symbol in the mountain torrent, the avalanche, and the
storm. His very name became a terror to the papists, and

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 333

wherever he came, excitement and confusion seemed to
attend his path. The whirlwind formed, as it were, the
very element of his life. Yet Avild and irregular as his
course appeared, it was true notwithstanding to the spirit of
the Reformation, in whose general movement he was carried
along. Eccentric though he might seem, and comet like in
his orbit, he still revolved around the one great central sun,
which bound the whole system together and filled it with
light. The reformers .generally, in their different spheres,
knew him to be one of themselves, and prized and trusted
him accordingly. The peculiarities of his character only
served indeed to show the more strikingly what inward liv-
ing reality the Reformation possessed. And nowhere per-
haps do we find a more graphic illustration of its compre-
hensive freedom, broad and deep and universal as humanity
itself, than when we behold it binding and blending into one
life, elements so dissimilar and opposite, forms of existence
so constitutionally divergent towards contrary extremes, as
the calm, mild, grave, equal nature of Oecolampadius on the
one hand, and the impetuous spirit, on the other, of his
bosom friend, wild William Farel.

He was born in the year 1489, at the foot of Mount Bay-
ard in Dauphiny, not far from the ancient town of Gap. His
family was of noble descent, and held a sort of baronial pre-
eminence among the rude and simple dwellers of the moun-
tain hamlet, which carried its name. It had been long dis-
tinguished for its piety and attachment to the church, and
was in fact a model of devotion at this time, in the Romish
sense, for the whole neighborhood. His immediate parents
were perfectly steeped in popish superstition. Never had
its reign been more oppressive in that country than it was
then ; but they bowed their necks unresistingly to the full

334 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

weight of its yoke. " My father and mother," he tells us
himself, " helieved every thing." Both their faith and obe-
dience were absolutely blind.

His first years were passed in the seclusion of his native
village. In his eye was mirrored from day to day, as he
pursued his childish and boyish sports on the banks of the
Buzon, the magnificent ever varying scenery of the High
Alps, till at length the image of it grew as it were into his
very soul, not to be parted from it while it should continue
to exist. The free mountain air filled his lungs and circled
through his veins, till in the end it seemed to form an ele-
ment of his spiritual nature itself.

He was indeed constitutionally framed to take a deep and
lasting impression from the bold, wild forms, with which he
found himself thus surrounded in the outward world from the
beginning. The life which he inherited from his fathers,
might be said to be itself connatural with the physical rela-
tions, in the midst of which it rose. His soul naturally was
suited to reflect the Alpine heights, and sound responsive to
the Alpine winds ; to hold communion with the everlasting
rocks, to climb beyond the clouds, or ride if need be on
the rolling terrors of the storm. His character was un-
folded accordingly, in marked and striking features from the
first. His judgment showed itself quick and penetrating, his
imagination lively, his temper earnest, free and ardent. To
great vivacity was joined in his spirit, great simplicity and
sincerity, and an indomitable will, that drew back from no
danger, and could be worn out by no difficulty. Open, lofty,
bold, what he thought he spoke, and as he felt he acted. In
the nature of the case, these qualities not unfrequently degen-
erated into faults. His disposition led him at times to be
violent, extravagant and rash.

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 335

Such a nature could not fail to surrender itself without re-
serve to the influences, which were brought to bear upon it
from the beginning-, in the sacred name of religion. The
superstition of the parents, enforced by constant instruction
and example, very early took full possession of the child.
He grew up in the very element of papistry, and his earnest,
trustful, susceptible spirit might be said to have drunk in the
poison at every pore. His head was filled with legends of
the saints. His credulity was taught to swallow the most
monstrous lies. He threw himself with his whole soul into
the mummery of the Romish forms. Prayers, penances, and
pilgrimages, to see a miracle or adore a cross, all attested in
their proper place the sincerity of his devotion. The recol-
lection of what he had been and what he had done in this
way, often served in subsequent times to fill him with grief.

But his soul at the same time thirsted for knowledge. He
felt himself irresistibly urged to seek a wider sphere, in
which to exercise his powers. At a period when but little
value was placed on letters, his thoughts were turned pow-
erfully in this direction, and he could not rest until his father,
who for a time opposed his wish, at length consented that he
should devote himself to study. This he did, as he was ac-
customed to do all things, with his whole soul. His resolu-
tion carried him forward in the midst of the greatest diffi-
culties and discouragements, till he found himself possessed
of all that could be learned in his native province. He then
directed his eyes towards ihe University of Paris, whose
reputation at this time filled the whole christian world. His
parents yielded again to his wish, and in the twenty-first
year of his age, accordingly we find him in the metropolis,
with all the opportunities of that great seat of learning fair-
ly at his command.
20

336 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

But Paris was to be for Farel, in the way of light, far
more than he had himself anticipated. A gleam of evangel-
ical truth had already begun to shine athwart the night of
ages in that city, giving notice of the glorious day which
was soon to burst forth on Europe generally, and it was so
ordered that this should now fall upon the path of the ardent
student, and turn his thirst for knowledge into an entirely
new direction. His own mind indeed was one of the first
in which the evangelical ray might be said to be fully com-
prehended.

One of the most remarkable doctors connected with the
University of Paris at that time, was the aged and learned
Lefevre. He was one of those who sought to rescue learn-
ing from the thraldom of the schools, and who dared to
abandon Aristotle for the study of the Bible. Eloquent, af-
fectionate and earnest, he engaged and captivated all hearts.
Farel soon came within the magic circle of his influence, and
the truth which fell from Lsfevre's lips contributed mightily,
through God, to the regeneration of his soul. The master
and the pupil were indeed drawn towards each other with
mutual attraction. Both were serious, earnest, devoted to
the ordinances of the church. Both at the same time had a
heart for something deeper than the mere forms, in which
the religion of the age was made mainly to consist. They
were drawn together as worshippers of the Virgin and the
saints. But their communion became gradually more broad
and free; and although Lefevre himself continued firm to the
last in his allegiance to Rome, the measure of his evangelical
liberty soon grew to be so great, that Farel could not fail to
come under its force, and to feel himself shaken in the very
ground of his religious life by its means. In the end, the
pupil became more free than his master.

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 337

It was not, however, with a sudden bound, that Farel was
enabled to clear himself of the dismal territory of supersti-
tion. The spiritual revolution was not effected without a
long and violent struggle. No man could be more fully
wedded to the reigning system of error, than he was when
he came to Paris. If any one presumed to speak against
the pope in his presence, he was ready to gnash upon them
with his teeth. Satan, as he tells us, had lodged popery so
deeply in his heart, that even in the pope's own heart it
could have sunk no deeper. His creed was, " I believe in
the cross, in pilgrimages, in images, in vows, in relics. What
the priest holds in his hands, shuts up in the box, eats him-
self and gives to be eaten by others ; that is my only true
God, and to me there is no true God besides, in heaven or
on earth." His fiery spirit spurned all moderation. His
whole nature lay engulphed in the mistery of delusion. " Ob,
how I shudder at myself and my sins," we hear him crying
afterwards, " when I think on it all ; and how great and
wonderful a work it is, that man should ever be delivered
from such an abyss !"

But in the midst of all his punctuality and zeal as a papist,
he found no solid peace in his soul. In vain did he seek light
and nourishment from the legends of the saints. In vain did
he consult doctors, and invoke the aid of philosophy. All
failed to satisfy the anxious cravings of his spirit. In de-
spair he turned to the Bible. But this, to his dismay, was
found at variance with the order of things that surrounded
him in the church. A terrible struggle followed, in which
Satan seemed to prevail. He persuaded himself that it was
not safe for him to listen to the Bible, except under the
guidance and interpretation of the church. Pained and
offended with the light, he buried his face again in the

338 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURCE.

bosom of that false mother, and abandoned all right and title
to think for himself. The reign of darkness was complete.
In this way, however, God was in fact preparing the fu-
ture reformer for the liberty of the gospel. Thus thrown
upon himself, to work out the great problem of life in his
own strength, he was made to feel the full desolation of his
nature ; and when at length the grace of Jesus Christ rose
upon his sight, it was only the more welcome for the long
fruitless struggles through which he had previously toiled,
and from which as in a quiet harbor he was here invited to
rest. This deliverance, in due time, he was brought happi-
ly to experience. Lefevre had been gradually rising more
and more above the murkey atmosphere with which he was
surrounded, till in the end the full glory of the gospel burst
upon his view. He began to teach boldly and broadly the
great doctrine of justification by faith alone, dismissing all
regard to the saints, and exalting Christ and his cross as the
alpha and omega of the christian salvation. Without regard
to tradition or philosophy, he expounded the Epistles of
Paul in the spirit of the great apostle himself, and in doing
so shook the University and the Sorbonne to their very cen-
tre. To the hearts of many, these instructions were accom-
panied with extraordinary power. But on no one probabty,
did they fall with greater effect, than upon young William
Farel. He was in the right position exactly, to understand
the necessity and worth of such a free salvation as was now
disclosed to his view. With intense interest he hung upon
the words of truth, which he seemed to hear as from the
lips of Paul himself, and the clear distinct statement of the
gospel was sufficient to bear down all doubt with regard to
it in his mind. At once he embraced the gift of pardon and
eternal life, and became a new man. " Lefevre," he tells us,

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 339

" rescued me from the false imagination of human merit, and
taught me that all is of grace; which I believed as soon as
it was spoken," For a time, indeed, he found himself still
fettered to some extent by the old superstitious habit of his
soul. He could not easily throw off in particular his long
accustomed veneration for the saints. But Christ was fairly
seated on the throne of his heart, and the Holy Ghost spoke
with power to him from the Bible. In the end, his deliver-
ance became complete. The whole army of saints, with the
Virgin Mother at their head, was routed and forced to retire.
Jesus reigned, not only supreme, but alone. Farel stood in
the midst of a new world. Idolatry was torn up by the roots
from his heart. The authority of Rome was completely
and forever prostrated. In the full sense of the word the
truth had made him free.

Farel continued in Paris several jTears after his conversion,
giving lectures in one of the colleges as master of arts, when
he had taken that degree. During this time, he was conspi-
cuously associated with Lefevre, and those who had come to
think and feel on the subject of religion in the same way, in
a steady effort to diffuse the light and grace of the gospel.
A very considerable evangelical interest, the product of that
deep force which was now in different lands, without con-
cert or correspondence, urging forward the glorious life of
the Reformation, had been formed, and made itself sensibly
felt, in the very heart of the French nation, before either
Wittemberg or Zurich had begun to move in the same direc-
tion. Auspiciously the morning of the new era dawned on
this ancient christian land, and all seemed to promise the
presence of a bright and triumphant day. For a season it
was apprehended, that the court itself might be engaged to
fall in with the evangelical movement, to which in fact the

340 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

brightest ornament of it had been already won, in the per-
son of the king's sister, Margaret of Valois, Queen of Na-
varre. But circumstances which it does not fall in our way
here minutely to explain, soon turned the face of things into
a new aspect. The jealousy of the Sorbonne prevailed.
The teachers of the new faith found it necessary to with-
draw from Paris, Farel among the rest. He was not in
priest's orders, it is true ; but no man had shown himself
more indefatigably active in behalf of the gospel, among
citizens and students, professors and priests, and he was not
to be tolerated of course, when Lefevre and his friends were
required to quit their place. A temporary refuge for the
persecuted interest, was found at Meaux, under the patron-
age of Brigonnet, the distinguished bishop of the place, who
was himself wrarmly attached to the evangelical doctrines.
It was in the year 1521, that Farel was led, on the invitation
of this excellent ecclesiastic, to take shelter under an ap-
pointment to labor in connection with the schools and
churches in his diocese. There for a short time again, the
work of the gospel went forward with great power.

But this stimulated the enemies of the work to new and
more active zeal, on the other side. The fanaticism of the
mendicant monks especially was roused to virulent action.
A heavy pressure was brought to bear upon the bishop of
Meaux from abroad; he was required to vindicate his own
character from suspicion, by purging his diocese of heresy
as taught by others. The shock was more than he had
strength to meet. He quailed before it, and yielded to its
force; the diocese of Meaux proclaimed itself true once
more to Rome, and the friends of the Reformation were
ordered forth, to find harbor as they best could in some dif-
ferent quarter.

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 341

Meanwhile, on all sides, the elements of wrath were com-
bining, and gathering into a dark cloud, which threatened to
descend in a storm of persecution on all who were suspected
of being favorable to the new doctrines. In a short time,
blood began to flow, and in different districts the truth of
the gospel was sealed, as it came to be still more plentifully
afterwards, by the baptism of fire. Christ's faithful witnes-
ses in France were brought to stand in jeopardy every day,
and could maintain their ground at most points only with the
continual peril of their lives.

We find Farel next actively employed, as the open friend
of the Reformation, in his native province of Dauphiny,
where the good work of the Lord had already begun and
made some progress. His three brothers were won over to
Christ, and had courage, when it became necessary to give
up along with himself, fortune, country and friends, for his
service. Most industriously he endeavored to extend the
knowledge of the truth among his relatives and others, in
the city of Gap and its vicinity; till at length he was sum-
moned before the magistrates, and not without rough hand-
ling expelled from the place as a " firebrand of discord."
This however did not reduce him to silence. It only threw
him out upon the open plains, and among the villages and
secluded hamlets, to preach among the simple and the poor,
from house to house, the free salvation of Christ. This ex-
posed him to much privation and no small danger. He was
obliged to betake himself at times to the forests and wild
ravines among the mountains for shelter.

Switzerland at this time offered a free and inviting asylum,
to the persecuted heretics of France. Here the Reforma-
tion had already secured considerable ground, through the
labors of Zwingli and others, and was at the same time

342 FAKEL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

steadily making progress. Opinion was comparatively free,
and foreigners were encouraged to expect a kind reception.
Among others, Farcl, rinding himself so much circumscribed
at home, and hoping to be benefitted himself by the society
of the Swiss Reformers as well as to find in connection with
them a wider field of usefulness, was induced to turn in this
direction. Making his escape from France, with difficulty,
by obscure and toilsome ways, he entered Switzerland early
in the year 1524. Here he was destined to spend his days,
and to take a leading part in the work of the gospel. God
had raised him up and educated him, and cast him out of his
native land, that he might at length occupy with proper
effect the broad field in which he was now called to labor.

He came to Basel. There was already in that city a
French church, composed of refugees, who had fled there
to escape the scaffold. These had already made the name
of Farel familiar, among the friends of the Reformation in
the place. He was welcomed accordingly, as a man who
stood ready to face all dangers for the sake of Christ.
Here he met Oecolampadius. No two men could well be
constitutionally less alike. They were drawn together how-
ever by a powerful inward attraction, almost as soon as they
met, and soon their friendship was complete. Oecolampa-
dius took him into his house, and made him one of his family.
The earnestness and courage of Farel seemed to impart new
vigor to his own character, and to inspire his gentle nature
with fresh energy and confidence, in the midst of the difficul-
ties with which he was surrounded. The other evangelical
preachers in Basel also were greatly taken with his learning
and piety and bold open spirit, and found themselves con-
firmed and fortified in their faith by his presence.

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 343

Basel had not yet declared in favor of the Reformation,
though it had taken a strong hold on the public mind. The
influence of Oecolampadius and his associates was gathering
weight, from day to day, especially with the magistrates
and the mass of the common people ; though the learned
doctors and members of the University generally were bitter
in their opposition. A public disputation had already been
held, in which the Reformers openly vindicated the marriage
of priests, before a numerous assembly. Farel felt encour-
aged to challenge another discussion, that might go at once
to the ground of the difference between the two parties, and
modestly solicited permission from the University to defend
publicly certain theses, which he had prepared for this pur
pose. This request the University refused. He then applied
to the council of the city, and his application was granted.
The University sought to prevent the students and priests
from attending the disputation ; but the council interposed
again, not only allowing but requiring all such persons to be
present. The occasion was one of vast popular interest.
Farel acquitted himself with great ability as well as great
boldness and courage; and the impression made upon the
people in favor of the cause he maintained was deep and
lasting. With all his fire, he was a man of solid learning,
and his words were full of weight at the same time that they
were distinguished for their sparkling vivacity. Oecolam-
padius, Pelican, and the other reformers in Basel, were led
to think more highly of him than before. u He is a match
for the whole Sorbonne together," wrote Oecolampadius to
Luther.

There was one man, however, at Basel, of very consider-
able eminence, with whom Farel stood on less favorable
terms, although he was considered generally to have no great

344 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

regard for the pope. This was Erasmus, the celebrated
scholar of Rotterdam. He had made Basel his home, on
account of the literary advantages of the place and the at-
tractions it possessed generally ; and Basel, the Athens of
Switzerland, felt herself honored and flattered by his pre-
sence. There he sat as the monarch of letters, surrounded
witli his court of learned men, the object of veneration to
scholars throughout Europe. Zwingli in early life had made
a pilgrimmage to Basel, expressly to see him, and came
away completely charmed with his person. " There is noth-
ing I am so proud of," he said on returning to his home, u as
of having seen Erasmus." A very considerable intimacy
had subsisted also between him and Oecolampadius. Lat-
terly however, he had grown cool towards the reformers
generally, having no heart to sympathize with the deep ear-
nestness of their religious spirit, and resenting the freedom
with which he had been handled by two or three of them
through the press. In these circumstances, Farel was not a
man to suit his fastidious taste; and Erasmus of Rotterdam
was just as little suited to find favor in the eyes of Farel.
They felt as it were instinctively, each of them, that they
belonged to totally different spheres, between which there
could be no cordial union. Farel, with that keen-sighted
vision which belonged to him, looked into the very soul of
Erasmus, and had no power to disguise the contempt he felt
for his character. With characteristic recklessness, he spoke
of him as a man who had not courage to own the truth which
he knew. The wife of Froben, the printer, he said, knew
more of theology than Erasmus — no common wife, by the
way, of no common printer. Still worse, he was charged
with stigmatizing the learned man, under the name of Ba-
laam, as one who had been hired by the pope to curse God's

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURCB. 345

people. Erasmus was greatly nettled, and sought a personal
explanation, from which however, he derived but little satis-
faction. It was a serious thing, however, to be prosecuted.
by the wounded pride of such a man at Basel. Erasmus took
pains to place the character of Farcl, and of the French
refugees generally, in the mos-t unfavorable light ; and such
was his influence in the end, that the bold and zealous ser-
vant of Christ, after the lapse of a few months, received an
order from the magistrates to quite the city. Basel, the asy-
lum of persecuted exiles, the metropolis of humanity and
polite learning, at the bidding of the prince of scholars,
thrust Christ himself for the moment from her bosom, in the
person of bis outcast martyr. u Such is our hospitality,"
exclaimed Oecolampadius, M we are a true Sodom !"

This is one of the most instructive passages, in the some-
what enigmatical life of Erasmus- How the spiritual pov-
erty of the philosopher stands forth to "view, as contrasted
here with the inward grandeur of the Reformer. It is such
a commentary on the nakedness of man, in his best estate, as
we have when we listen to a Pliny or a Trajan in corres-
pondence, on the style of persecution to be exercised to-
wards the christians in Bithynia ; or look upon the cold fea-
tures of a Marcus Antonius, in the reflected glares of those
fierce fires, which burned by his order for such a man as
Polycarp, and for the noble company of martyrs at Lyons
and Yienne. Erasmus was full of self, as Farel was full of
Christ. The smooth-going, time-serving spirit of the one
was continually affronted by the straight-forward, lion-heart-
ed " simplicity and godly sincerity" of the other. It was
the spirit of the Reformation in full collision with the pride
and self-complacency of the world ; and all the littleness of
Erasmus, as the heartless slave of his own narrow person,

346 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCODRGE.

was perhaps never more broadly revealed than in the case
of this concussion.

Farel only gained new strength by his trials, and was pre-
pared more and more to endure hardness, as a good soldier
of Jesus Christ. He visited Strasburg, and strengthened
himself there by entering into bonds of friendship with Bu-
cer, Capito and Hedio, as he had previously made himself
acquainted with Zwingli and Myconius, by a visit to Zurich.
Soon after we find him girding himself for active service
again in a new field. Montbeliard, through the favorable
disposition of its prince, Duke Ulric of Wurtemberg, was
thrown open for the reception of the gospel, and Farel was
considered the proper man to carry it thither. The whole
case constituted a clear call for him, to devote himself in
form to the work of the ministry. Thus far, he had acted
only as a layman in the church, though in an unusually prom-
inent and energetic way. It was now necessary that he
should act with higher authority, in the house of God. But
how was he to be ordained? Extraordinary emergencies
justify extraordinary measures. So it was considered in
this case. Oecolampadius, in the retirement of his own
house, to which Farel had before secretly repaired for coun-
sel and direction, dared to ordain him himself, conferring
upon him in the name of the Lord full authority to preach
the gospel. He exhorted him at the same time to study
moderation, and to blend the dove with the lion in his minis-
try. Thus furnished, the son of thunder took his departure
for Montbeliard.

His ministry here, was attended with great power, and
the influence of it extended far beyond, into neighboring dis-
tricts of France. He seems to have been in fact the soul of
a very extensive movement, which was going forward in fa-

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 347

vor of the Reformation, in all that region. lie became the
organ of a powerful agency established at Basel, for the dis-
semination of the gospel in France. Books and tracts were
provided for this object in plentiful supply, especially copies
of the New Testament, as translated by Lefevre into the
French tongue, were multiplied as fast as possible. Several
presses were kept actively employed at Basel in the service
of this work, producing tracts and books for France. Farel
presided as a sort of general agent, over the whole move-
ment. Colporteurs were employed to carry them and offer
them at low prices at every door. The effects wrought by
this agency were immense.

It was not long, however, before a powerful opposition
began to show itself to the labors of the Reformer in Mont-
beliard itself. The popish ecclesiastics were roused. A
dignitary of the order of the Franciscans rose in the church
while he was preaching, charged him with falsehood, and
denounced him as a heretic. A great uproar followed. In
the end, the Franciscan was required by the duke to retract
his charges in the most public manner. This shock seemed
to inspire Farel with new zeal. He became more bold and
fearless than ever in unmasking the wickedness of the priests,
and dragging into light the abominations they were endeav-
oring to uphold. Oecolampadius and other friends sought
by letters to restrain him ; but from this time, their affec-
tionate counsels appear to have been in a great measure with-
out effect. The impetuosity of his nature triumphed over
all obstacles cast in its way, and bore him irresistibly for-
ward in its own direction. He felt perhaps, that his char-
acter indicated a peculiar commission, called for by the cir-
cumstances of the age, and not to be interpreted in the light
of common prudence, by men of a different temperament

348 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

from himself. There is abundance of evidence, at all events,
that his excesses were not the mere sallies of unreflecting
passion. There was calculation in his extravagance, and
method in his madness.

Such an explosion took place at Montbeliard on the festi-
val of St Anthony, towards the end of February 1525, when
in one of his walks, he met on the bridge of the small river
that runs through the place, a solemn procession, reciting
prayers to the saint, and headed by two priests bearing his
image. The gross idolatry moved his soul to pious indigna-
tion. He stepped forward, snatched the image out of the
priest's hands, and threw it over the bridge into the stream.
The excitement which followed, was of course very great.
It is only strange, that Farel did not fall a victim to the fury
of it on the spot As it was, he was obliged to conceal him-
self, and soon afterwards to quit the city.

After a short visit to Basel, he procured an appointment
from the authorities of Bern, to preach the gospel in Aelen,
a district extending from the Alps to the vineyards of the
Rhone, at that time under the government of this state.
Here he labored with his usual ardor, combatting supersti-
tion in every direction, and making himself a terror to the
priests and monks, far and wide. He was engaged at the
same time in an extensive correspondence on the leading the-
ological interests of the day.

In the year 1528, a famous Conference was held at Bern,
between the Reformed and Popish clergy, which resulted in
a decision of the magistrates to reform the Church through-
out their territory. Great confusion of course followed,
when this order began to be carried into effect. Farel found
himself however completely at home, in the midst of the
commotion. His whole soul abhorred the idolatries of

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 349

Rome, with an energy proportionate to the power they had
once exercised over his own life ; and now that the way was
opened, he went forth exultingly to tear up the system, root
and branch, wherever it came in his way. His action was
in the style of a violent missionary crusade. Images, altars,
crosses fell, demolished hy the zeal of the restless icono-
clast, in every direction, without mercy. No vestige of
idolatry could find toleration in his eyes. All this, however,
was no holiday work, in the midst of an ignorant and fanati-
cal people, whose whole religion had been so long wrapped
up in these sacred objects. To be rudely interrupted while
preaching in the pulpit, was for him a comparatively small
thing. But matters were carried a great deal farther. In
one case at least, the pulpit was fairly thrown down, and
more than once he was severely flogged by parties both of
men and women. A strange way this of subduing a refrac-
tory district to protestant freedom. The indefatigable cour-
age of such a man as Farel only, could have carried the
work successfully through. But he did carry it through.
The priests finally yielded, the people became quiet, and
Aelen was protestantized to the full extent of the order,
which had been published by the magistracy of Bern.

But Farel did not limit his activity, in this case, to the
district of Aelen. He made excursions, in the same work,
into neighboring districts. In the end, we find him embark-
ed in a sort of general agency, under the patronage of the
government of Bern, for the overthrow of idolatry in the
whole surrounding region. Wherever he went, his method
of working was still in the same stormy style. There was
no parleying, no preliminary negotiation, no diplomatic show
of compromise or courtesy. Formality and etiquette were
given to the winds. He would interrupt the priests when

350 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

they were preaching, (as he was often served himself,) and
refute or expose them on the spot. Whenever he could do
it, he would ascend the pulpit himself, often in the very
midst of some religious ceremony, and begin to harangue the
people. It was not uncommon then for such a noise to be
made, by hisses, cries and screams, as made it impossible for
him to be heard at all. But his plan, in such cases, was to go
steadily forward with his discourse, as though he had no
perception of the disturbance whatever, till at length it fairly
wore itself out with its owrn bootless effort. Then his elo-
quence rose, and rolled like a mountain torrent down upon
the congregation. When allowed to proceed thus far he
seldom failed to make an impression on the mass of his
hearers. But in many cases, the struggle between preacher
and people came to a less pleasant issue. Screams and
hisses, having so little effect, were followed up with rougher
measures. The uncompromising reformer was laid hold of,
dragged from the pulpit, beaten, kicked, and maltreated in
all manner of ways. In these assaults, women and children
took an active part. The children sung, hissed, shouted
and screamed; the women tore his hair, beat him and
scratched him, like so many furies. More than once, he
came near losing his life in such affrays. In one case, he
returned to his home, vomiting blood, and completely shorn
of his strength. In another case, his blood stained the wralls
of the cathedral, and remained there for years, a monument
of the harsh treatment to which he had been subjected.

In the midst of all this tempestuous action, he wras always
full of joy and hope. His spirit gathered strength from op-
position, and drew fresh courage from defeat itself. His
strange, wild ministry moreover was everywhere crowned
with success, as became more evident in the course of time,

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 351

by its results. Behind the earthquake, fire and storm, had
been heard in many hearts the " still small voice " of the
Spirit, convincing of sin and leading the weary and heavy
laden to Christ. Some of his most bigotted and virulent op-
posers, he had the satisfaction of embracing afterwards as
his brethren and helpers in the work of the gospel.

These operations could not fail of course to spread his
fame, on all sides. To the papists, no name in Switzerland
was so terrible as that of Farel. He was hated and feared,
as the Scourge of priests and monks. To gather into one
single epithet as much of odium and reproach as could be
thus embodied, he was styled familiarly Der Luther. This
was equivalent to heretic, apostate, fiend, all at a single blow.

In the year 1531, Farel and another minister were ap.-
pointcd by the Synod of Bern a deputation to visit the W*t
denses in the valleys of Piedmont, and to confer with them
on the subject of the Reformation. This mission he fulfilled
in a very satisfactory way.

On his way back, he made his first attempt on Geneva—
a point to which his attention had been particularly directed
before, by Zwingli. The doctrines of the Reformation had
already gained some ground in the place, and efforts were
made in secret for their farther propagation ; but the reign-
ing tone of thought was all the other way. The senate was
opposed to change ; the clergy were more than commonly
bigotted and corrupt; and the people were involved in gross
darkness. The presence of such a man as Farel, the Priest-
Scourge, could not be quietly endured. A malignant diabol-
ical plot was entered into, on the part of the priesthood, to
put him oi.rt of the way. This he was enabled, by the mer-
ciful providence of God, happily to escape; but it was made
plain that he could not labor with safety, at this time in Ge-
21

352 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

neva, and his friends contrived to send him away as soon as
possible, by stealth, from the place.

In less than two years, however, we find him in Geneva
again. He gained regular admission into the city for himself
and a youthful colleague, named Viret, under the covert of
an embassy, which was sent from Bern to make complaint
on the subject of some public grievance. His movements
now were characterised by great prudence and circumspec-
tion, and showed nothing whatever of that wild impetuosity
which he had displayed previously in other places. Through
the influence of the embassy from Bern, he procured an or-
der from the senate for his personal protection, while he
went forward cautiously preaching the evangelical doctrines,
at his own lodgings, or from house to house. Next he suc-
ceeded in obtaining a requisition, that the clergy should
preach nothing, except what they might be able to prove
from the scriptures ; which was a blow struck at the very
root of the reigning system. The priests were filled with
spite. A doctor of the Sorbonne was called in from a dis-
tance, expressly to counteract his influence. Farel charged
him with teaching unscriptural doctrine, and challenged him
to meet the accusation before the senate. A conference ac-
cordingly was held, in which Farel conducted himself with
great calmness and self-possession, and in the end complete-
ly overpowered the Dominican doctor. Judgment went
against him by general consent, and he was ordered to re-
tract his errors publicly in the church. Things had now
reached a crisis. The government knew not how to act,
being distracted by different views within, and opposing in-
fluences from abroad. But Farel had already judged for
himself, what the case required. Boldly he began to grap-
ple with the established superstition, in season and out of

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 353

season, in bis old style. The magistrates were alarmed,
and bade him be still. But it was too late ; they might as
well have tried to stop an avalanche or chain the whirlwind.
The people had begun to feel the mastery of his giant spirit.
Soon he was thundering in the pulpit of the great cathedral
itself. The discovery of a plot to murder the reformed and
change the government, turned the popular feeling power-
fully against the clergy. The case became worse still, when
the pope issued a decree of excommunication against the
city. This operated as a death blow to the authority of
Rome. The council were persuaded at length to call a meet-
ing of the people. Farel addressed them in strains of sol-
emn, overwhelming eloquence. In the end, it was resolved
by an almost unanimous vote, that Geneva should go with
the Reformation. This took place on the 10th of August,
1535. The edict, establishing and proclaiming the great
revolution in form, was issued on the twenty-seventh day of
the same month.

Farel won Geneva for the gospel, and he was instrumen-
tal also in winning for the place the ministry of the man,
whose name became afterwards its highest ornament. This
was John Calvin, the youthful theologian, a refugee from
France, whose great work The Institutes of the Christian
Religion, with its masterly address to the French king, had
a short time before made its appearance, and was fast draw-
ing upon its author the eyes of all Europe. No man knew
better than Farel himself, that talents and resources of a dif-
ferent order from his own were required, to carry forward
and complete the work he had now happily begun. His
first care, was to secure efficient help, worthy of the trying
but vastly important field he was called to occupy. At this
juncture, he was apprised that Calvin had stopped in the

354 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

place, and at once it seemed to be revealed to him by the
spirit, that God had here brought within his reach the very
man who was needed for this service. The stranger was on
his way to Strashurg, where he hoped to be at liberty to
pursue his studies and make himself useful, and intended to
tarry in Geneva but a single night. Farel called upon him,
and urged him to enter the field which was here calling for
work. Calvin excused himself on various grounds. On
this, Farel, in the spirit of one of the ancient prophets, said
to him with awful solemnity, "Now in the name of Almighty
God do I declare to you, since you make your studies a pre-
text, that unless you address yourself with us to this work,
the curse of God will rest upon you, for seeking your own
honor rather than that of Christ." Calvin was overpowered.
The words of Farel were to him, like the voice which
thundered through the heart of Saul, on his way to Damas-
cus. It seemed to him, as he himself says long afterwards,
as if God had stretched out his hand from the heavens, to
arrest him, and fix him in that place. He gave himself to
Geneva.

Farel and Calvin went forward vigorously with their
work. But they soon found themselves in great difficulty.
Geneva was, in a religious view, still unformed and chaotic.
The elements of confusion were every where at work. A
powerful opposition organized itself against the strenuous
reformers. They were brought into collision with the gov-
ernment. In the course of a year matters had come to such
a point, that an order was issued requiring them to leave the
city. It was the age of earthquakes and storms.

Calvin, in due time, moved by the tears of Geneva, came
back. Farel had bound himself to another field, to encoun-
ter new storms, as the hardy pioneer of Christ. Immediate-

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 355

ly after his expulsion from Geneva, he was waited upon at
Basel by a delegation from Neufchatel, and earnestly solicit-
ed to transfer his labors to that place. This call after full
consideration he had accepted, and Geneva could not draw
him back again to her bosom. He continued however
always to take the most lively interest in her welfare; and it
was by his earnest intercession mainly, that Calvin was in-
duced to give himself a second time to the afflicted and re-
pentant city.

Neufchatel was no bed of roses for Farel, more than the
other fields to which his labors thus far had been given. His
zeal for holy living, soon gave rise to deep and wide-spread
disaffection. A case of discipline, proved the signal for this
feeling to explode, in a violent popular commotion. A pow-
erful party called loudly for his dismissal. For a time, the
city was in a hurricane of strife. In the midst of it all,
however, Farel stood firm as a rock. The plague burst out
among the people, just at this time. This helped to show
him in his true character. Day after day he was at the bed-
side of the sick and dying, making no distinction between
enemies and friends, unmindful altogether of himself, and
earnestly intent only on administering to the wants of his
fellow-men. This opened the eyes of many, and turned
their hearts to kindness and respect. Other influences also
came in to moderate the wrath of his enemies, and the intre-
pid pastor, in the course of a few months, remained in un-
disputed quiet possession of the field.

His heart still sighed, however, for new conquests; and
he was led, by the advice of his friend Calvin, in the Autumn
of 1542, to make a descent on Metz, where a feeble evan-
gelical interest was struggling to rise above the billows of
persecution. His first sermon was in the church-yard of the

356 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

Dominicans. The bells were all set ringing to drown his
voice ; but his trumpet tongue rang, in clear piercing notes,
above the discord, and forced the people to hear. The next
day, he addressed an audience of three thousand people.
All Metz was astounded. He was called before the council,
and asked by what authority he preached. " By the author-
ity of Christ," was his bold reply, "and at the desire of his
people." Great opposition and excitement prevailed. Farel
had his home once more in the bellowing, flashing storm.
To complete the scene, the terrors of the plague again
crossed his path, and he became as before an angel of mercy
to the abodes of the sick, in spite of the prohibitions which
were thrown in his way. As usual, his preaching was pro-
ductive of fruit. He found it prudent however, after some
time, to retire to Gorze, in the neighborhood, where he
could carry forward his evangelical work with more safety.
It was after all, however, a rough business still. On one
occasion, as a Franciscan friar was declaiming from the pul-
pit on the perpetual virginity of Mary, Farel stood up and
gave him the lie in no measured terms. Immediately, as in
old times, the women pounced upon him like wildcats,
dragged him about by his hair, pulled his beard, and might
have made an end of him, if he had not been seasonably
rescued from their hands. In the end, he narrowly escaped
with his life from a terrible slaughter, inflicted on the Pro-
testants in this place by the bloody Duke of Guise.

On the close of this missionary campaign which lasted a
whole year, he returned to Neufchatel, which he still con-
sidered his proper home. Here he was still tried with vari-
ous difficulties, which often put his courage severely to the
test. But his authority grew with his age, and he held his
position firm, in the face of all enemies, till the close of his
life.

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 357

At the same time, his relations to the church at large in-
volved him continually in new and weighty cares. No man
was less capable of confining his thoughts to a single city or
district. The troubles of Geneva were felt by him, almost
as much as the troubles of Neufchatel. His soul wept and
bled with the martyrs of France, as though he had been one
of their number, as indeed he was himself. Every contro-
versy that divided and distracted the friends of truth, as
especially the great sacramentarian strife, came home to him
as a personal wound. All questions of discipline or doctrine
that agitated the age, were allowed to claim his attention.
He lived in active correspondence with the other reformers
at every point Beyond all his contemporaries perhaps, he
exerted himself at home and abroad in favor of education,
establishing and encouraging schools, and promoting with all
his power a proper regard to intellectual culture. A volume
would be necessary, to detail even in a general way the
manifold forms of action, by which his " care of the
churches," especially in the latter part of his life, made
itself known.

At the same time, the spirit of an evangelist continued to
animate him to the last. He was always ready to go forth
personally in missionary tours, wherever they promised to
advance the glory of Christ, without regard to sacrifice or
cost. When quite an old man, Ave find him still employed
in these evangelical campaigns, with all the fire apparently
of his earlier years. His zeal for the propagation of the
gospel was known far and near, and he was often invited to
visit different points, where his services were needed in this
way. One of his expeditions was in favor of the Walden-
ses, in whose circumstances he never ceased to take the
most lively interest. But the richest treat for him in this

358 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

way, must have been the tour he made, when he was about
seventy years old, to his native Dauphiny. Hundreds of
congregations in France, having renounced the mass, were
at this time thirsting for the word of life; and now Farel
Was invited by a special message to visit that same Gap,
Which in the beginning of his labors had expelled him from
her bosom as a " firebrand of discord." There were still
lions and dragons to be faced, in obeying such a call. But
to Farel it was as a voice from God himself, and lions and
dragons had no power to keep him back. He stood once
more on the soil that gave him birth, by the streams, and be-
fore the cloud-kissing summits, that enshrined the spirit of
his boyish years, and the full eloquence of his soul was per-
mitted to pour itself forth for Christ without restraint. The
magistrates threatened, but the people heard. Immense
audiences hung upon his lips from day to day, and " the
word of God had free course and was glorified." Refresh-
ing to the soul of such an one as Farel, the aged, must have
been that missionary visit to the home of his fathers.

At the age of sixty-nine, Farel married. The step was
generally condemned. It was intended perhaps to be a bold
protest against the Romish celibacy, as Luther wished his
conduct to be taken, when he set public opinion at defiance
in the same way. He had a son by this marriage, who died
however a few years after the death of his father.

In the year 15G4, Calvin wrote to his friend that he was
near the hour of his dissolution, and bade him an atfectionate
farewell. Farel immediately set out on foot to pay him his
last visit " Oh, that I could die in his stead," he exclaim-
ed, in speaking of him on his return.

He was left behind in this case, only for a short period.
His own dissolution took place the following- year. A visit

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 359

to Metz, where lie preached with great power, resulted id
sickness, which soon shewed itself to be " unto death.'1
His submission, patience and trust in God, were worthy of
his profession and previous life. His sick chamber was full
of light and love. With patriarchal solemnity he exhorted
and counselled magistrates and ministers, and all who came
into his presence, according to their several stations. His
soul went forward to meet the king of terrors, with all the
courage and animation it ever displayed in the service of
Christ. Rather death was shorn of his terrors altogether,
and had become to him only as the voice of the bridegroom,
by which he was welcomed into heavenly joys. He slept
in Jesus, September 13th, 15&5, in the seventy-seventh year
of his age.

Such was William Farel, the thundering Priest- Scourge,
child of the whirlwind, and fellow to the Alpine storms; one
of the most remarkable men certainly, produced by the age
of the Reformation. It is not easy to estimate properly the
moral character of his zeal. Tried by the common stand-
ard, as found to hold in quiet and peaceful times, it might
seem to have been of an absolutely fanatical complexion. It
showed no respect to times, or persons, or places. It gave
all courtesy and calculation to the winds. It grappled with
all that came in its way under the form of opposition, with
an earnestness which seemed like wild tempestuous instinct,
more than the result of clear thought and sober reflection.
In ordinary times, and with the great body of men at any
time, such violence of epirit would deserve to be condemned
at once as extravagant and fanatical. But the period of the
Reformation was no common time; and the men who where
raised up, (created by the wants of the age itself,) to preside
over the mighty moral revolution were anything but common

360 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

men. It will not do, to try the free workings of a Luther's
soul rigidly by the formulas of our common every-day life ;
just as it will not do, to subject the genius of a Shakespeare
to the dissecting knife of a cold and merely speculative criti-
cism. And so are we bound to reverence the still wilder
freedom of William Farel. We may find it impossible to
approve or justify many things that appear in his life. His
brother reformers did so at the time, and gave him abund-
ance of wholesome advice on the subject of moderation ;
which in general seems to have answered very little purpose.
Still a great deal must be allowed to the wants of the time,
and the temperament of the man. In the circumstances of
the case, this was the most natural, and probably the most
effective form, in which the life of the Reformation could
have developed itself through his person. There was no
affectation in his character. It was all the free evolution of
his own nature, from its innermost ground outwards, under
the action of divine grace. Hence with all his wildness, he
was neither quack nor fanatic. Quackery — a crying evil in
the church at the present time — consists in a pretension to
inward power, (with or without the clear consciousness of
the pretender himself,) on the ground of a merely pheno-
menal activity, without any regard to its spiritual basis.
Simon Magus was a quack; Apollonius of Tyana, was a
quack; and Simeon the Stylite, sitting on the top of his pil-
lar to the glory of God, was a quack. And many quacks
there be in every direction still; quacks little, and quacks
big ; seeming to be what they are not ; and dreaming to ac-
complish by the flesh, what can be accomplished only by
the spirit. Such however Farel was not. The outward in
his case rooted itself continually in the inward; and the re-
sult was power, such as quackery can never reach. Fana-

FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE. 361

ticttm, again, is zeal pervaded with malign affection; taking
its rise from selfishness, and always returning thither at last
as to its proper end. Widely different from this was the
spirit of Farel. Love lay at the foundation of all his activ-
ity, and uttered itself through its most violent explosions.
There was no selfishness or malevolence ahout him; but a
willingness rather to suffer all imaginable indignities and pro-
vocations, if only he might hope to be serviceable to the
souls of his fellow men. Whatever may be said against him,
he was at least a genuine man, pervaded with the life of God
in all his movements ; he was no fanatic, and he was no
quack.

Let no apology then he drawn from his irregularities, in
favor of wild measures in the service of religion, on the part
of common men in common times. This is the very essence
of quackery, to ape the forms by which in special cases true
power has made itself known, and then claim shelter beneath
the shadow of such example without a particle of its spirit.
If men affect to roar and thunder and play the Boanerges, in
the style of a Whitefield or a Farel, let them show their
title to do so by exhibiting the inward power of these
preachers, and not expect their roaring and thundering of
itself to pass for such strength. Where the life gives birth
to the form, going before it and creating it freely for its own
use, we have reason to he satisfied even with the most ab-
normal manifestations. They become in that case natural
and right. But the same or similar irregularities put for-
ward in any other way, in their own name and for their own
sake, betray weakness and deserve contempt. The quack
is the slave of forms, even where he assumes to be free in
his movements. He would fain be something more than
common, and dreams of becoming so by outward attitudes

362 FAREL THE PRIEST-SCOURGE.

and positions; as though these could create life or generate
light and power. But it is pitiful, when small men, tradi-
tional men, mechanical men, without spiritual bottom or
force, set themselves to gain credit in this way ; and most
especially so, if their sphere of action be the sacred ministry.

iFacsimfle ot ealfcfti's £utoflr<rph.

FACSIMILE OF CALVIN'S AUTOGRAPH.

The handwriting of this distinguished reformer will be
seen to be particularly illegible, and we cannot imagine how
his correspondents were able to read it all. If his writings
were not transcribed in a fair hand before they were sent to
the printer, we can easily imagine the temper of the type-
setters. It will be interesting to compare our decypher-
ing of it which is perfectly correct, with the original.

Ornatissimo viro et fideli Christi servo, D. Rodolpho

Gualthero TigurinEe ecelesise pastori et Symmistae

colendo.

Pater hujus pueri, a quo literas meas accipies, est quidem
homo senatorii ordinis apud nos ; sed quia non admodum est
opulentus, Alius isthic cuperet exiguo sumtu ; et discendae
vestrae linguae et bonis simul Uteris dareoperam. Etsi autem
invitus tibi molestiam exhibeo, fugere tamen non potui, quin
banc commendationem amico promitterem. Rogo igitur,
quoad tibi commodum erit, ul puerum consilia regas, et gra-
tia favoreque tuo, si opus erit juvcs. Frisio nostro scribcre
siipervacuum duxi, modo puerum meo nomine commendare
ne graveris.

Joannes Calvinus tuus.
Genevae, 15 JJvgnsti, 1556.

TRANSLATION.

To the most accomplished gentleman and faithful servant
of Christ, Mr. Rudolph Walther, pastor of the church at
Zurich, and

366 FACSIMILE OF CALVIN's AUTOGRAPH.

The father of this lad, by whom you will receive this let-
ter, is a man of senatorial rank among us ; but because he
is not very wealthy, the son desires at a small expense to
learn your language with you, and to devote himself to lit-
erature. Though I do not wish to give you any trouble, yet
I could not avoid promising my friend this recommendation.
I request, therefore, that as far as your convenience will
allow, you will give this youth your advice, and as far
as is necessary, aid him with your influence and favor. I
considered it superfluous to write to our Frisius; you can
only commend the lad to him in my name without any trou-
ble.

Your

John Calvin.
Geneva, August 15, 1556.

MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR.

BY REV. PROF. C. F. SCHAEFFER.

During the convulsions in church and state which char-
acterize the sixteenth century, a number of individuals ap-
peared, whose heroic virtues or whose enormous crimes
have assigned to them a prominent position on the page of
European history. The reader who dwells on the eventful
period of the Reformation, gazes in silent wonder on the
glittering vices of Leo X., recoils with loathing from the
baseness of Tetzel, or is soothed and charmed by the vir-
tues which adorned the electoral house of Saxony. He is
alternately attracted and repelled, as the actors in the busy
scene appear before him, till all his attention is absorbed,
and his whole heart is won by Luther himself.

The Reformation which this remarkable man was the in-
strument of effecting, lends an additional interest to many
individuals whose talents or political power exercised a com-
manding influence over their cotemporaries. The Emperor,
Charles V., a monarch distinguished alike by his splendid
abilities, his tortuous policy, and the accumulated power
which he wielded, appears in intimate connexion with every
great event that marked the stormy period of his reign.
Scarcely less remarkable is an individual who held a subor-
dinate rank — Maurice, apparently the friend and the foe of
both the Emperor and the Reformation ; his rise from a sta-
tion of comparative obscurity to the loftiest rank among the
princes of the German empire, exhibits incidents which re-

368 MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR.

semble fiction more than they appear to partake of historic
truth. The dominions of his ancestors had been divided, in
the course of time, and at the era of the Reformation, the
Albertine or younger branch of the Saxon family, to which
he belonged, was represented by his uncle, George, duke of
Saxony. When George, who survived his two sons, had
descended to the grave, his brother Henry, whose sole do-
minions had consisted of the small territory of Freyberg,
took legal possession of ducal Saxony. In him the Protest-
ants found an ardent friend, and a zealous member of the
League of Smalcald, which the elector and other princes
had formed in 1531, for the defence of the gospel. When
he died, in 1541, Maurice, his son, who was zealously at-
tached to the Protestant opinions, both from education and
from principle, was only in his twentieth year, but even at
this age exhibited unusual discretion in the measures which
he adopted immediately after his succession; he had, doubt-
less, already at that early period, indistinctly conceived the
vast plan which later events enabled him to develope more
clearly, and accomplish with unparalleled success.

He appears to have been animated by an ambitious desire
to establish the liberty of his country, and the rights of con-
science upon a firm basis, and with singular consistency of
purpose, to have combined plans of self-aggrandizemeBt
with the loftiest patriotism and the purest principles of reli-
gion. His policy led him to assume a hostile attitude to-
wards those whom nature and the claims of near affinity
should have taught him to revere, while it required him to
court those whom honor and religion should have urged him
to resist. In the conflict between his feelings and his prin-
ciples, he often suppressed the former, in order to secure a
glorious victory for the latter. It is difficult to define his

MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR. 369

real position ; his public acts were not all consistent with
christian integrity, but their brilliant results, which he had
long anticipated, seemed to have justified in his eyes the
questionable policy by which he was guided. He found in
Charles V. a monarch whose grasping ambition attempted to
extinguish all the rights and privileges of the German em-
pire, and whose policy or whose bigotry could never toler-
ate the existence of the Protestant religion. No German
prince possessed sufficient political power to contend suc-
cessfully in open warfare with the emperor ; none seemed to
be qualified by diplomatic tact or political art to baffle his
designs. Maurice resolved to deliver the state and the
church from their insidious and powerful foe. Although he
perceived that the attainment of this object required a long
course of dissimulation, and the possession of a large mili-
tary force, his energetic will impelled him to engage in the
enterprise.

Without revealing his plan to a single individual, he com-
menced his operations by an official refusal to accede to the
league of Smalcald, while he obstinately avowed his attach-
ment to the Protestant religion, he declared that he was un-
willing to involve himself in a struggle with the emperor.
His sagacity had taught him that the members of the league
could not sustain themselves in a contest with Charles V., as
their private and separate interests were not controlled by
the absolute or undisputed power of one individual, and that
his neutrality would attract the favorable attention of the
emperor. He courted the latter, aided him in his military
operations, and soon won his esteem. Although he had mar-
ried the daughter of Philip, landgrave of Hesse, a zealous
Lutheran, his personal and avowed dislike towards his cou-
sin, John Frederick, Elector of Saxony, which Luther and
22

370 MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR.

the landgrave could not induce him to suppress entirely, led
the emperor to regard him with peculiar favor ; and it was
now his great object to gain the entire confidence of his im-
perial master.

Immediately after the peace of Crespy in 1544, Avhich
terminated the hostilities between Charles V. and Francis I.,
the king of France, Pope Paul III. summoned a General
Church Council, and directed it to be held at Trent, a city
in the Tyrol, on the confines of Germany and Italy. At that
period, it belonged to the emperor's brother, Ferdinand, the
king of the Romans, but the selection of a city in the vicin-
ity of the papal dominions, while the religious controversies
which the council was partly intended to decide, were chief-
ly conducted in a remote country, gave umbrage to the Pro-
testants. The measures which Ferdinand had proposed at
a diet or assembly of the states of the empire previously
held at Worms, were resisted by them with inflexible con-
stancy, and they refused to acknowledge the authority of a
council over which the pope evidently designed to exercise
unlimited control. Maurice, while professing, with apparent
candor, an inviolable attachment to the Protestant religion,
assumed an appearance of moderation, and expressed a wil-
lingness to gratify the emperor by assisting at the council.
It was opened at the close of the year 1 545 with great so-
lemnity , and, while the personal and conflicting interests of
the emperor and the pope, prevented a cordial co-operation,
other considerations induced them to suspend their own hos-
tility, and concert measures for extinguishing the Protestant
cause ; in accordance with their designs troops were raised
in various parts of the imperial dominions. The confeder-
ates of Smalcald, alarmed by these hostile preparations,
which were not effectually concealed, and convinced of the

MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR. 371

insincerity of the emperor, determined to avert the impend-
ing danger by increased vigor in their movements. They
collected an army of seventy thousand foot and fifteen thou-
sand horse, for which abundant stores were provided : these
preparations, without requiring the united effort of the whole
Protestant body, furnished them with an army which is said
to have been one of the most numerous, and which was un-
doubtedly the best appointed of any that had been levied in
Europe during that century. But, instead of proceeding to
action, they resorted to negociations, until the emperor re-
covered from his surprise, and published the ban of the em-
pire against the Protestant leaders, John Frederic, Elector
of Saxony, and Philip, landgrave of Hesse; the sentence
declared them to be rebels and outlaws. These two distin-
guished princes could have treated it with defiance, if the
slow movements of the former and the bold policy of the
latter had not prevented all concert of action. Their forces
were not guided by one mind, and the papal and imperial
troops gained several advantages. During these transactions,
Maurice, intent on the execution of the plan which still lay
buried deeply in his bosom, concluded a treaty with the em-
peror, and obligated himself, as a faithful subject, to assist
his master, provided that the latter would stipulate to be-
stow on him the dignity and territories of his relative, the
elector; nevertheless, he so successfully concealed this
agreement from the world, that when the unsuspecting elec-
tor joined the confederates at the beginning of the campaign,
he committed his dominions to the protection of Maurice.
Soon after, the emperor, agreeably to their secret under-
standing, officially informed Maurice that the ban had been
denounced against the elector, whose territories were conse-
quently forfeited, commanded Maurice, as the next legal

372 MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR.

heir, to seize them, and formally declared that his disobedi-
ence to the imperial decree, would render him accessary to
the crimes of his kinsman.

Maurice, with his usual art, obtained the concurrence of
his own Protestant states, and aided by Ferdinand's Catholic
troops, soon acquired possession of nearly the whole elect-
orate. A crisis seemed to have arrived. He was declared
by the astonished Protestants to be an apostate from the reli-
gion which these extraordinary proceedings were really in-
tended to establish, and a betrayer of German liberty, which
the emperor, the real dupe of Maurice, was to be the uncon-
scious agent of ultimately placing on a firm basis. The land-
grave disowned his son-in-law, and even papists beheld the
conduct of the latter with detestation. The difficulties in
which the Protestants were involved, however, even without
the influence of this untoward event, have produced the re-
sult which the sagacious Maurice had foreseen. They made
overtures of peace to the emperor, but were repulsed ; sev-
eral of them ultimately accepted the vigorous terms which
he proposed to those who were willing to return to their al-
legiance. John Frederic retired to his electorate, and un-
molested by Charles V., wrhose extensive dominions called
his attention to other points, soon rescued nearly the whole
of his territory from his enemy.

The death of Francis I. in 1547, and the accession of
Henry II. to the throne of France, enabled Charles V. to re-
sume his operations in Germany. He immediately marched
against the elector of Saxony. An engagement followed on
the 24th of April, in the vicinity of Muhlberg, on the river
Elbe ; the imperial forces prevailed ; the elector, who was
distinguished for personal courage, received a wound in his
face, the order of battle could not be, restored, and he was

MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR. 373

taken prisoner. His heroic wife, Sibylla of Cleves, who
was equally remarkable for her abilities and her virtues, vig-
orously defended Wittenberg, the electoral residence, which
was besiged by Maurice, till she was subdued by the fear
that her confined resistance would give the emperor a pre-
text for putting the elector to death. The whole electorate
was surrendered; and now Maurice attained one object
which was essential to the success of his plan. At the diet
held at Augsburg in 1548, he was solemnly invested with
the electoral dignity in an open court so near the apartment
of the imprisoned and degraded elector that he could wit-
ness the ceremony from his window. John Frederic viewed
the scene with great tranquillity, and then returned to the
devotional reading in which he chiefly passed his time.

Maurice became the most powerful prince in Germany by
this addition to his territories, and the moment rapidly ap-
proached in which he intended to divest himself of his dis-
guise, and assume that attitude towards the emperor, tbc en-
emy alike of his country and his religion, which was the ul-
timate object of these unusual steps. His father-in-law, the
landgrave Philip, had also submitted to the emperor, and
was held in rigorous confinement. Maurice, who had incur-
red odium among all classes by conniving at the injustice
practised towards his father-in-law by the emperor, for whom
he had seemed to sacrifice honor, patriotism and religion,
loudly urged his master to liberate the captive. The em-
peror naturally ascribed the importunities of Maurice, which
were publicly and ostentatiously continued, to the domestic
ties of the latter, and, although he refused to gratify his fa-
vorite, retained all his partiality for him, while Maurice, by
these importunities, regained in a considerable degree, the
confidence of the Protestants. He did not neglect one part

374 MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR.

of his complicated plan while he labored for success in an-
other, but now published an energetic declaration, in which
he assured the Protestants of his devotion to their religion,
and of his determination to guard against all the errors or
encroachments of the papal see. This unequivocal and pub-
lic expression of his views, which seemed to close every
avenue to a permanent union with the Catholic emperor, as-
sumed in the eyes of the Protestants, the character of a for-
mal secession from the papal party, while with unparalelled
art, he induced the emperor, whose heart was not interested
in the cause of religion, to regard it as a harmless effusion
of zeal for abstract principles.

Still he feared that the suspicions of the emperor would
awake if those of the Protestants were lulled asleep, and
amid the exciting scenes of the times, a new device readily
suggested itself to his adventurous genius. The Protestant
city of Magdeberg, which had persisted in its refusal to
adopt the interim or temporary rule of faith and worship
published by the emperor, was put under the ban of the em-
pire, and Charles V. had determined to punish the contuma-
cy of its inhabitants with severity. The diet held at Augs-
burg in 1550 petitioned the emperor to entrust to Maurice
the command of the troops which were sent against the city ;
the appointment was made by the one and accepted by the
other with equal alacrity. The emperor persuaded himself
that the Protestants would abandon every hope on seeing the
most powerful prince of their party avowedly engaged in an
attempt to annihilate the last of the Protestants who defend-
ed their religion by arms. But this moment he himself un-
consciously took the decisive step for which his secret foe
had so long and so patiently waited, in order to crush all the
plans of his dupe. Maurice already possessed extensive do-

MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR. 375

minions ; he could collect around his person all who favored
the new religion; but he could not act without a numerous
army ; and yet any attempt to assemble forces in considera-
ble numbers, without a motive that would satisfy the wary
emperor, would have been premature. The pretext was
now found. In the autumn of 1550, Maurice assumed the
supreme command of all the troops collected at Magdeburg,
and began the seige in form ; but he prosecuted it with as
little vigor as the actual position of the parties allowed.
The period had arrived for disclosing to others the secret
which he had hitherto concealed with consummate skill.
During the seige he concluded a secret treaty with Henry
II. of France, and with several German princes, against the
emperor, and even sought an alliance with Edward VI. of
England, to whom he appealed for aid in the defence of the
Protestant religion. Of all the proceedings which wTere
conducted with profound secrecy, Charles V. received no
intelligence. At length, after a seige of twelve months,
which afforded Maurice ample time for gaining the affections
of the troops and arranging all his plans, he concluded a
treaty of capitulation with Magdeburg, on terms which were
sufficiently rigorous to satisfy Charles V., but which, in ac-
cordance with a secret pledge given by Maurice to the au-
thorities of the city, were not really executed. So adroit
were his measures, that while the grateful citizens voluntar-
ily conferred on him, by their own election, the office of bur-
grave, the emperor extolled his fidelity and success in the
reduction of the city.

As Maurice had now disclosed his plans to several princes
who adopted them with eager delight, his sagacity readily
dictated a mode of dismissing the troops which were no
longer needed, without actually dispersing them. They

376 MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR.

were so judiciously divided among his secret allies on vari-
ous pretexts, that although the vast army appeared to the
emperor to have been dissolved, it could at any time be re-
assembled by the master spirit. While waiting for the arri-
val of the decisive moment, Maurice, agreeably to his usual
policy, made a final attempt, in the most public manner, to
induce the emperor to liberate the landgrave; the interces-
sion of eminent princes was united with those of the son-in-
law, and the emperor, who was at Innspruck, unwilling to
pronounce a distinct and positive refusal, which Maurice of
course expected, still expressed to the ambassadors of the
latter his desire to confer on the subject with their master,
from whom he expected an early visit. Maurice, at the
same time, gratified the emperor by sending commissioners
to the council of Trent, the authority of which he officially
recognized.

At this time the emperor was suffering from a severe
attack of the gout, and continued at Innspruck, a town on
the river Inn, at a convenient distance from Trent, and dis-
tinguished not only for its importance as a military post, but
also for its romantic situation. The Duke of Alva had be-
gun to suspect Maurice, but his representations were un-
heeded by Granvella, the emperor's prime minister. Two
of the secretaries of Maurice had been bribed to disclose
their master's secrets to Granvella, who, though he was him-
self one of the most subtle statesmen of that age, was, in
this instance the dupe of his own craft. The skill of Mau-
rice in diplomatic contests, was not equalled by any politi-
cian; he had discovered the treachery of his secretaries;
but, in place of inflicting punishment upon them, he appear-
ed to place unlimited confidence in their integrity, and, while
he pretended to disclose all the secrets of his bosom to these

MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR. 377

members of his council, he gave them false information
alone. The communications which they made with fidelity
to their new employer, necessarily deceived him. Hence,
Granvella, confiding in his own arts, would not allow the
emperor to listen to the suggestions of the Duke of Alva or
distrust Maurice, as he prided himself on his accurate know-
ledge of the movements of the latter, and believed that none
could surpass him in cunning.

The arrangements of Maurice were now completed, and
the crisis arrived. He suddenly joined his army, which was
instantly brought together, and published a manifesto, in
which he declared that, in attacking the emperor, three rea-
sons impelled him to resort to arms; first, the hostility of
Charles V. towards the Protestant religion ; secondly, his
invasion of the rights and privileges of the German empire;
thirdly, his refusal to liberate the landgrave. The first rea-
son at once justified Maurice in the eyes of the Protestants;
the second, won the confidence of all the friends of liberty
in every religious party; and the third, touched a cord in
the bosoms of all who possessed the least decree of sensi-
bility. Maurice rapidly advanced, arrived at the castle of
Ehrenberg which commanded the only pass through the Ty-
rolese mountains, took possession of this strong fortress
without loss of time and almost without bloodshed, by the
fortunate discovery of a secret path to the summit of the
rock on which the castle stood, and was now only two days
march from Tnnspruck. An unexpected event somewhat re-
tarded his progress; a battalion of mercenaries mutinied, and
it was not without a considerable loss of time that Maurice
quelled the insurrection. The delay prevented him from
being himself the messenger of his success. The emperor,
who had not yet recovered from his late illness, still occu-

378 MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR.

pied his lodgings at Innspruck; it was a gloomy night; the
rain fell in torrents, and all had retired to repose ; the em-
peror was suddenly aroused by the tidings that Maurice was
approaching, not as a friend, but as a foe. The consterna-
tion of the emperor was indescribable ; his affrighted and
bewildered attendants were scarcely controlled by the voice
of their master ; but the danger wras imminent, a litter was
hastily constructed for the emperor, who could not mount a
horse, and he was carried forth by torch -light, amid the
raging storm. The gloom which surrounded the terrified
band, and the difficulties of the road, added to their distress;
the courtiers who followed at unequal distances, on foot or
on horses, concerned for their personal safety, and conscious
of the hazards of the road, increased the general confusion.
The emperor hastened onward as rapidly as the wild and
mountainous country permitted, and, at length, paused, with
his dejected and exhausted train, at Villach, a remote spot
in Carinthia, unable to continue his flight.

The eager Maurice arrived at Innspruck a few hours after
the departure of the" emperor ; he was disappointed in his
design to seize the person of the emperor, but his general
plan was completely successful. The fathers at the council
of Trent were filled with dismay, when the intelligence of
the bold steps of Maurice reached them, and a prorogation
of the council followed, which continued not less than ten
years. After Maurice had restored the Lutheran clergy to
their rights, wherever his authority extended, he met Ferdi-
nand on the 26th day of May, 1552, at Passau, for the pur-
pose of concluding a peace. The hesitation of the emperor,
who was represented by his brother, to accede to the pro-
positions of the Protestants, was terminated by the energetic
measures of Maurice, whose political wisdom taught him

MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR. 379

that a longer delay could only add to the strength of Charles
v., and enable him to dictate his own terms. The celebrat-
ed peace of religion was ultimately concluded at Passau, on
the 31st day of July, 1552, which secured for those who
adhered to the Augsburg confession of faith, the undisturbed
exercise of their religion, as well as recognized other im-
portant rights and privileges which they had never before
enjoyed without molestation.

This treaty, to which Charles V. was compelled to ac-
cede, destroyed the vast fabric which it was the object of
his whole policy, during many years to erect; it annulled all
the restrictions by which he attempted to impede the pro-
gress of Protestantism ; it defeated all his plans for render-
ing the imperial authority absolute and hereditary in his
family ; and, it doubtless largely contributed to that satiety
of the world, which induced him, in less than four years
after these events, to retire from the usual scenes of his
grandeur, and close his life in a monastery.

Maurice was subsequently appointed to the command of
a powerful force which several princes of Germany sent
against the turbulent Albert of Brandenburg; a fierce en-
gagement took place on the 9th of July, 1553, at Sievers-
hausen, in the duchy of Lunenburg. Victory declared for
Maurice, but he did not live to enjoy it. As he was leading
a body of horse to a second charge, he received a severe
wound which occasioned his death two days after the battle.

This remarkable man, who combined the knowledge and
prudence of an experienced statesman, with the vigor of
youth, closed his career in his thirty-second year; he lived
long enough to furnish a striking illustration both of the de-
ceitfulness of the human heart, and of the over-ruling Pro-
vidence of God. Indeed, the whole history of the Refer-

380 MAURICE AND THE EMPEROR.

mation abounds in similar illustrations. Thus the king of
France, while he was persecuting his Protestant subjects
with all the fierceness of bigotry, assisted Maurice in his
efforts to protect the Reformation in the German empire.
While the splendid virtues of Luther qualified him for the
office of restoring religion in its purity to the world, the
vices of the popes, which so pointedly contradicted their
claims to sanctity, facilitated his task. And thus too, Mau-
rice, although he was influenced by unsound views of duty,
and guided by personal ambition, became the instrument of
establishing the Protestant religion on a firm basis. The in-
justice of which the pious John Frederic was the victim,
furnished the wily Maurice with the means of concentrating
in his own person that amount of political strength, which
enabled him to ruin the projects of Charles V., the enemy
of the true faith. Thus the Almighty accomplishes his lofty
plans ; he can glorify his name without human instrumental-
ity ; he can employ the righteous in offices that promote his
honor; he can regulate the caprice of human passions, and
render even the vicious subservient to his exalted designs.
We adore Him whose knowledge is unsearchable, and praise
his holy name for the wisdom and the goodness which he
displayed in so ordering all events as to produce and give
permanent success to the glorious Reformation.

tfxcBlmiU of Ste fault's Slutonraph.

ft^uS^r'^1 ?la ""yt tytif^*; i^ o«f*°4r umJks cjorfo ^^/^V^
w*fi, Q^sdafTtJOsyn^ffr Ct(a/&$ syyv ^jtA/prfa Mftrdf y

piJCf J OfV>nfi*P$ v+i/yfi (two, xrOfrib^O' aW «&* <Wp drhJlCp '^fcsj &yrl«+*Z>
J?JU cicclf? JMf* felrvVfo^^ jp cy +vW+$ /Jiff^ **&/r.

FACSIMILE OF ZWINGLI'S AUTOGRAPH.

An den wohlgelahrten meister wernherr Steiner zu Zug
seinen giinstigen Herrn.

Non sum nescius carissime Wernherr quam recte de
christi doctrina sentias. Unde hac parte monitore opus non
habeo, ita enim de te persuasus sum sentiendum esse, ut de
pio Christi discipulo, qui capiat cunctos Christo lucrifacere,
nisi quosdam perniciosa cascitas in transversum ageret.
# # # # #

Ego quidem tot negotiis implicor ut hac vice nihil ad rem
scribere liceat, quum vero dabitur lubens ad earn scribam.
Servet te Christus cum ea incolumen.

Ex Tiguro 19th die Febr. MDXXII.

HlJLDR. ZwiNGLIUS TUUS.

Pisces optimos misisti dono, gratia deo; qui ut gustum de-
lectant ita animum laetificant, quod ab amico tarn nostri studi-
oso missi sunt ; hsec ab utroque tili dicta accipe, puta tarn a
Leone quam a nobis. Iterum vale.

TRANSLATION.

To the learned Master Wernherr Steiner, at Zug, (His
gracious Sir:)

I very well know, dearest Wernherr! how correct your
opinions are of the doctrines of Christ. Hence there is no
necessity of giving you any advice on that subject, for I am
well persuaded that you are to be regarded as a pious disci-

384 FACSIMILE OF ZWINGLl's AUTOGRAPH.

pie of Christ, who desire to gain all for Christ, if a pernici-
ous blindness did not lead some in a contrary direction.
# # # # *

I am at present engaged in so much business, that I cannot
this time write any thing relative to the matter ; but when
an opportunity offers, I will cheerfully write about it. May
Christ take you and that affair into his keeping.

Your,

Ulrich Zwingli.
Zurich, Feb. Wh, 1523.

You have sent — thank God — a present of most excellent
fish, which are as grateful to the taste as refreshing to the
heart, because they have come from such a warm hearted
friend. Regard this as said by both of us, Leo, and myself.
Again farewell.

THE COUNTER REFORMATION.

BY REV. PROF. H. L. BAUGHER.

The history of the Reformation is one of the most inter-
esting extant. It is full of instruction, and bears upon it
every where the marks of divine interposition. There were
indeed no miracles wrought, in the ordinary sense of the
term. There was no pillar of cloud by day and fire by
night, but God was as certainly and as evidently controlling
the affairs of the church then, as he was in the wilderness.
What is perhaps most remarkable in this important revolu-
tion is, the apparently simple and inadequate means for the
accomplishment of such glorious results, and the rapidity with
which Protestant principles diffused themselves throughout
Europe.

The son of a poor miner, a youth who begged his bread
and was educated by the charities of others ; a simple monk,
by the power of the truth first influencing his own heart and
from that fountain gushing forth in living streams, is able to
move the world. From such a beginning, who would have
anticipated the results which now present themselves in
every continent ! Luther himself probably saw no farther
than others, but led on step by step, under the influence and
by the guidance of a power which is as resistless in the
silent impulses of truth and motive as in the heavings of the
ocean, the whirlwind and the storm, he was finally delivered
from the thraldom of popery and had his eyes opened upon
the important results of his labors.

386 THE COUNTER REFORMATION.

In the year 1521, was dated the sentence of outlawry
against Luther. Charles and Leo concluded a treaty, one
object of which was to enlist the overwhelming power of
the emperor not only against the Protestant leaders individu-
ally, hut against Protestantism itself. Luther was withdrawn
from the stage of action. Doubt and despondency rested
upon Protestantism just struggling into life. It was a dark
and gloomy day. The light of divine Providence seemed
to be shrouded in darkness, and the church was left to be
tossed upon the angry billows of war and political intrigue.
But the world held only the dark side of the cloud. They
could not penetrate its depth and gloom. To the heavenly
intelligences the other side was bright and radiant. It
awakened bright hopes, and flung the light of its glory far
into the future to illumine the prospect there. That cloud
had its special mission. It thundered indeed terribly and
darted its lightnings flash after flash all through the horizon ;
but soon it discharged itself in copious and refreshing show-
ers. Luther was hurried away to the fortress of Wartburg,
which he appropriately called his Patmos. It was indeed
the rock which sent forth, especially to Germany, the waters
of life. Here the Bible was translated into the vernacular
tongue, which perhaps more than any other cause contribut-
ed to the rapid diffusion of the principles of Protestantism.

Up to the time of the last sittings of the council of Trent,
the principles of Protestantism were making continued ad-
vances. The impulse which the Reformation had received
appeared to be irresistible. Romanism, in whatever form it
presented itself, yielded. Indeed, north of the Alps and the
Pyrenees, Romanism could appropriately be said to have
been subdued. It is true the conquest was not complete in
its details, (for as we shall soon see, it retained sufficient

THE COUNTER REFORMATION. 387

power to produce a reaction, of the most serious character.)
There were princes and noblemen, both secular and spiri-
tual, who adhered to the ancient faith; and the impressions
of early youth could not be entirely effaced from the minds
of the great mass. In the north of Europe, Protestantism
became universal and firmly established. It had spread to
the most remote regions. Denmark received the new doc-
trines with enthusiasm. " Bugenhagen, who introduced it,
dwells with delight on the eagerness with which his preach-
ing was listened to there, even on working days as he ex-
presses it, even before day-break, and on holy-days all the
day long.-" l In Iceland and the remote regions of Lapland,
the Romanists were compelled to give way to evangelical
preachers. In Sweden, Gustavus Yasa, in his will, made it
almost a condition of right to the throne that his successors
adhere firmly to the evangelical doctrines and to reject all
false teachers. Prussia had secularized the monastic orders.
When Livonia was to be added to Poland, the first condition
of submission, was permission to adhere to the Augsburg
confession. In Poland proper, many nobleman became Pro-
testants, and some Protestants obtained even bishop's sees ;
and, under Sigismund Augustus, who himself was a Catho-
lic, they formed the majority of the Senate. In Hungary
opposition to the Reformation on the part of the government
only tended to diffuse its principles more widely. In 1554,
a Lutheran was elected Palatine of the empire. Transyl-
vania separated itself altogether; and in 1556, the property
of the church was confiscated by a formal decree of the
Diet.

In the Germanic body, where the Reformation had origi-
nated, and, by wars long and perilous, had ohtained consider-

'Rank Hist. Popes.

23

388 THE COUNTER REFORMATION.

ation, and taken deep root, it was on the point of gaining
entire possession of the several states of that body.

In Bavaria the Protestant movement had proceeded with
equal activity. Many of the nobles embraced the Protest-
ant faith. The duke himself from time to time attended a
Protestant sermon.

In Austria the new opinions had made still greater pro-
gress. All the colleges of Austria proper were filled with
Protestants, and it was asserted, that only about one thirtieth
part of the inhabitants had adhered to Catholicism. The
region between Bavaria and Austria, under the government
of the archbishops of Saltzburg, no longer maintained its
ancient faith. The mass, fasts, and festivals were no longer
observed in the capital. Protestant sermons were read at
home by those who could not attend their preaching. The
country people loudly demanded the cup in the sacrament,
and as it was not granted, they avoided the ordinance alto-
gether. " They no longer sent their children to school and
on one occasion a peasant rose up in the church and called
aloud to the priest 'thou liest.' " In the Rhenish provinces,
in Westphalia the same state of things existed. In fine,
throughout the whole of Germany, Protestantism decidedly
prevailed. The nobles were inclined to it from the first.
The official functionaries were educated in the new belief.
The common people would no longer tolerate the doctrine
of purgatory, nor certain ceremonies, such as pilgrimages
and the exhibition of saints' relics, and not a convent was
able any longer to support itself. In the year 1558, a Vene-
tian ambassador reckons that only a tenth part of the inhabi-
tants of Germany had remained faithful to the old religion.

These changes were truly astonishing. With the exten-
sion of Protestant principles went hand in hand the increase

THE COUNTER REFORMATION. 389

of secular power and wealth. The confiscations of church
property were very great In addition to this, Protestant
opinions had become predominant in the establishment of in-
stitutions of learning. The education of the young was in
the hands of Protestants.

France, Great Britain and the Netherlands followed the
example of Germany. Protestant principles crossed the
Alps and the Pyrenees, entered the ecclesiastical states and
were found even in the court of the pope himself.

What a revolution is here presented to us; what a change
of sentiment and practice, of doctrine and ceremonies, since
the important visit of Luther to the imperial city. What
conquests had the Protestant or rather the christian spirit
achieved in the short period of a few score years. The
dead mass was enlivened. The waters of intellectual and
moral life were agitated by the breath of the Almighty and
soon they began to flow throughout the earth in healthful
streams. Why did they not continue to flow uninterruptedly
to their glorious destination? Why in a few years do we
find a reaction powerful, wide-spread and wasting? In or-
der to answer this question intelligently we must consider the
following particulars.

The assertion that the counter Reformation amongst the
Romanists was the result of the sittings of the council of
Trent, would be perhaps too broad. But surely from that
council the secular and spiritual rulers arose rejoicing. An
impulse had been there imparted, which was felt throughout
Christendom. A reform had been loudly demanded. A re-
form was effected, not indeed such as to gratify the ardent
aspirations of the humbled devout christian, but such as
tended to infuse new life and spirit into the active and ag-
gressive operations of the church. The pollution and de-

390 THE COUNTER REFORMATION.

bauchery, the riots and bloodshed, which disgraced the
streets of Trent during the session of the council, gave suf-
ficient evidence of the character of the men who composed
it. They were not reformed. The priests and higher pre-
lates, who should first have heen subject to the purifying ac-
tion of truth and discipline, remained as a whole nearly un-
altered in heart and life. Yet a great reform was in pro-
gress and wonderful results followed the spirit of the church
which began to be everywhere revived. Church discipline
became severe and uncompromising, in urgent cases the
sword of excommunication was employed. Seminaries were
founded in which the young clergy were carefully educated
in austere habits and in the fear of God. The clergymen
governed by fixed laws. Strict rules were laid down to re-
gulate the administration of the sacraments and for preach-
ing. Strict supervision was enjoined upon the superior
clergy over those committed to their charge and they were
required to reside within the limits of their jurisdiction. In
addition to all this they bound themselves by a peculiar pro-
fession of faith, which they subscribed and in which they
swore to observe the decrees of the council of Trent and to
render entire obedience to the pope. In fine it was the re-
organization of the papal system, which had relaxed through
power and luxury, upon principles inherent in the system,
and with the spirit of intolerance, exclusiveness and pride,
which characterized it in its palmiest dajs. This was the
commencement of that great struggle of popery which re-
sulted in the reconquering and complete subjugation of many
of the fair provinces of Protestantism.

In Pius the V. the rigid party of Catholics found a suita-
ble leader. A man spotless in character, rigid in his attend-
ance upon the auterities of Catholic forms, inflexible in his

THE COUNTER REFORMATION. 391

opinions and resolute as a pope to extend throughout the
church his own views. With such a leader and with the
powerful resources which yet remained in the papacy there
was reasonably to be expected, not only an obstinate resist-
ance to the advancement of Protestant principles, but a pow-
erful aggressive movement. Both speedily followed. Before
the end of the next twenty years popery was completely re-
established in Austria and Bavaria. " The Germans were
conquered on their own soil, in their very homes and had
wrested from them a portion of their own country." In
France and the Netherlands, Protestant blood flowed like
water, for now there was arrayed against the cause of truth
a consolidated secular power, animated by the bitterest spirit
of bigotry. Sweden, around which so many guards had
been placed to prevent her soil from being polluted even by
the footsteps of popery, was invaded and her Queen the ec-
centric Christina converted to the papal faith. Even Eng-
land was attacked, not only internally by the spiritual re-
sources of popery, but by its combined and concentrated se-
cular power. When the great Elizabeth laughed at the
proposition of pope Sixtus inviting her to return to the
bosom of the Catholic church, the resolution was formed to
deprive her of her kingdom by force. The attempt was
made by the "invincible Armada. " Thus the aggressive
movements of popery became more and more conspicuous
and formidable. Europe was a theatre far too small for her
wide grasping ambition, and Asia, Africa, America and the
Islands of the sea were visited by her restless, self-denying
and devoted missionaries.

Some of the causes which contributed to the success of
the counter Reformation will lead to interesting and profit-
able reflections.

392 THE COUNTER REFORMATION.

1. It is reasonable to suppose that Protestant principles
had not been thoroughly infused into the minds of the peo-
ple. One might infer, a priori, that where the truth had
found a congenial soil, where it had taken root and was ger-
minating, there an essential change in the nature of the plant
could not take place. Popery may uproot, destroy and sub-
stitute its own noxious weeds, but it can never change the
elements of a growth springing up and nourished in an at-
mosphere of truth.

Besides, a revolution such as that produced by the Refor-
mation requires time and labor for its perfection. Where
popular opinion, sustained by the learning and eloquence of
scholars and orators, diffuses itself rapidly throughout a
community, the great mass will almost necessarily be urged
along by feeling. The impulse of the moment oftimes leads
to action where no fixed principles control the will. Un-
doubtedly many Catholics became Protestants under the pop-
ular impulse, which like wild-fire, was bearing every thing
before it. They became nominal Protestants when no change
had been produced in their hearts, or, like many of the Icon-
oclasts, their judgments had been correct on one or two
points whilst their spiritual nature remained unchanged.

But, Protestant principles had not been adopted by very
many of the powerful nobles and princes. They were for
a time paralyzed, overwhelmed by the new spirit which ani-
mated every thing around them. They were in doubt as to
the result, and like prudent, worldly-wise men, they were
tolerant and waited to catch the most favorable breeze which
might wraft their bark in safety along the troubled waters.
Such were duke Albert of Bavaria, the electors of Treves
and Mayence, and the abbot of Fulda. Once they were
tolerant, although Catholics, and respected the rights and

THE COUNTER REFORMATION. 393

privileges of their Protestant subjects. Now, inflamed with
a zeal which trampled under foot every obstacle to the on-
ward progress of the Catholic faith, they became successful
champions in the cause.

Other places of power vacated by the demise of the old
incumbents were filled with young men educated in the strict
principles of the papacy and animated by the new spirit
through which it had been revived. Rudolph II., emperor
of Austria, immediately upon his accession to the throne,
laid the foundation of that reaction which gathered strength
every year, and which it was resolved should not cease un-
til Protestantism were banished from the empire.

In addition to all this, the Catholic rulers, both temporal
and spiritual, began to discover that the progress of evangel-
ical principles provoked a stronger opposition to their au-
thority on the part of Protestants and rendered their posi-
tion insecure. Under the influence therefore, of selfish feel-
ings, they co-operated powerfully with the efforts emana-
ting from Rome to re-establish on an immoveable foundation
the Catholic faith.

2. The causes mentioned above gave origin to others.
Where secular power was in the hands of Catholic rulers
they did not hesitate to employ it for the advancement of
their cause. Indeed independently of their own inclination
thev were required by the precepts of their faith to use it
for the extermination of heretics. Every where the power,
which in subordinate situations was held by Protestants, was
transferred to Catholics. The preachers of the gospel were
silenced, displaced and banished. Where these means were
insufficient the sword of persecution was not drawn in vain.
The Saltzbergers were banished. The Calvinists of France
and the Netherlands were massacred. The inquisition was

394 THE COUNTER REFORMATION.

the grand engine which revived Catholicism employed to
maintain its purity, and overawe any movement on the part
of individual Protestants. The papal nuncio in Spain writes
to his sovereign, " The obedience paid to the king, nay, his
wrhole government depends on the inquisition; were that to
lose its authority, seditions would instantly arise." As many
Catholics became Protestants in name, without its spirit, un-
der the impulse of popular feeling, so doubtless many formal
Protestants became Catholics through fear of the secular
arm. Thus popery possessed the means of securing the
habits of obedience already formed with all the external as-
sociations of the past; and, as that which is external consti-
tutes a large part of obedience, it was not difficult to fasten
that yoke upon the necks of a subject people.

3. Of far greater influence were the operations of the so-
ciety of Jesus. If secular power and a revived and vigor-
ous spirit were important to the Catholic church, for the
maintenance and diffusion of her doctrines ; of how much
greater importance was an order of men who would give a
legitimate direction to both. This order of men was found-
ed by Ignatius Loyola, a Spanish cavalier. It is not my busi-
ness here to detail a history of his life, or the motives which
led him to pursue a course, which in its results upon the
christian church, have been so eventful. My object is to ex-
hibit the connexion which this society had with the counter-
reformation of popery.

This institution had its origin almost cotemporaneously
with the Reformation and had attained sufficient form and
consistency, when the Council of Trent arose, to enter at
once into the most active and efficient operations. Three
principal objects were constantly aimed at by the members
of this association, and these the most w eighty in their prac-

THE COUNTER REFORMATION. 395

tical influence upon the church, viz. Preaching, confession,
and the education of youth. They ardently longed to con-
trol the common mind, to govern the conscience and to train
up the rising generation under the influence of their own
views and feelings. In order to carry these views more rap-
idly into effect and bring under their control both nobles and
commons, their laws were so framed as to separate their fra-
ternity entirely from all the ordinary relations of life. In
the lamniasre of Ranke : " Love of kindred was denounced
as a carnal affection. He who renounced his possessions in
order to enter the society was not to give them to his rela-
tions but to distribute them to the poor. He who had once
entered could neither receive or write a letter that was not
read by a superior. The society would have the whole
man. It would bind every inclination in its fetters. It
would share even its secrets. In this society obedience
usurped the place of every relation, or affection, of every
impulse or motive that could stimulate man to activity, obe-
dience for its own sake without any regard whatever to its
object or consequences. He who entered this society must
suffer himself to be ruled by his superiors in blind submis-
sivenesss like some inanimate thing; like the staff which is
turned to any purpose at the will of him who holds it. He
was to behold in his superiors the representatives of divine
Providence."

With such objects in view, with such a spirit and such a
compact, efficient organization, and such favorable circum-
stances for action, what important results might not be antic-
ipated ? In all directions the members of this society were
speedily sent forth. No obstacles impeded their progress,
no discouragements damped their ardor. They were living
automatons with the will of a single man and the ambition

396 THE COUNTER REFORMATION.

which grasped at the dominion of the world. Their schools
and colleges were rapidly planted in the cities on the Rhine,
in Austria and Germany. Their preachers were successful
and they managed to bring undei^ their government the con-
sciences of men. They aimed especially to become confes-
sors to the powerful and they succeeded. Wherever the
Jesuits appeared, a new impulse was given to Catholicism,
if it had been in a declining state, and where it had been
subdued, they revived and re-established it. From Vienna
they immediately extended over the whole of Austria, and
from Cologne over the whole of the Romish provinces. "As
late as the year 1551 they had no firm station in Germany,
in 1566 their influence extended over Bavaria, Tyrol, Fran-
conia, Swabia, a great part of the Rhineland and Austria and
had penetrated into Hungary, Bohemia and Moravia."

Whilst the German divines were disputing most acrimoni-
ously with each other on extreme points which were of little
or no practical benefit, the Jesuits appeared with a system
perfected, harmonizing with itself, and instead of quarrelling
gave each other honor. Many persons were unsettled in
their opinions by the violent discussions which were in pro-
gress; and they were placed in that mental position in which
they were easily taken captive by these foreigners who pre-
sented a system drawn up with much prudence, finished in
its most minute details and leaving no room for doubt. Is it
wonderful that the German divines, thus related to each oth-
er, should be conquered by these wily Jesuits? What a la-
mentable commentary is here presented to us on the effects
of angry discussions about non-essentials in religion ? Where
was the spirit of the Master and the power of the truth when
our forefathers were devouring each other in the fury of re-
ligious debate ?

THE COUNTER REFORMATION. 397

Now is it asked what particular power it was which gave
this society such wide-spread and rapid success? Was there
an}- striking originality of genius which distinguished them
ahove their Protestant rivals ? They were in all probability
not so learned, nor so acute, nor so eloquent, not so pious,
not more agreeable as companions, nor more persevering.
But they were united. There was one great end to be at-
tained and that was continually before them. There was
not only unity of purpose, there was also unity of plan.
Every thing was calculated. Every thing had its particular
scope and object. There was no individual selfishness, but
there was the most exclusive selfishness of party. They
were industrious, enthusiastic, worldly-wise, well-bred men ;
agreeable companions; and they possessed a sufficiency of
external morality and piety to make them acceptable to the
people. On the other hand the Protestant divines, divided
into sects, manifesting a hostility against each other, in some
instances greater than that against the common enemy, by a
course of conduct at variance with the precepts by which
they professed to be guided, opened the way to their rivals
for an easy conquest.

Finally, their schools were better planned and better con-
ducted than those which they found in existence. Their
teachers were engaged for life, and brought with them to
the Work a spirit which looked beyond the simple effects of
instruction. It regarded the extension of the church and the
future glory of the instructor. Time only can make a per-
fect teacher. It was found that the Jesuits' scholars learned
more in one year than those of other masters in two, so that
even Protestants recalled their children from distant gymna-
sia to entrust them to their care. Whilst they cultivated and
taught the more elevated branches of knowledgej so that in

398 THE COUNTER REFORMATION.

languages they had teachers among them, who might claim
to be ranked among the restorers of classical learning, they
did not overlook schools of a lower order. They divided
their schools into classes, which they taught from the first
rudiments into the highest branches of learning. The poor
were not neglected. Great attention was paid to moral edu-
cation, and they formed men of good conduct and manners.
Lastly, they taught gratuitously. They were forbidden to
ask or receive pay or alms. Their instruction was as gra-
tuitous as their sermons and masses. There was no box for
the receipt of gifts even in their churches. Such a course of
conduct could not fail to make the Jesuits extremely popular.
And here we have the solution of the problem of their won-
derful success. The same causes will make men popular
any where and amongst any generation of men that has ever
existed. The wonder is that they made no greater con.
quests.

The practical tendency of these facts and reasonings for
our own day must not be overlooked. Popery professes
to be unchanged. In its doctrines and spirit this is certainly
true. Never will it or can it change in these particulars,
until it is riven asunder by the power of God and its frag-
ments scattered amongst the elements of spiritual life existing
elsewhere, to be absorbed by them and employed for his
glory.

Where had Protestants a fairer field for the development
of their system and its establishment upon a broad and deep
foundation than in this country ? They had the occupancy
of the virgin soil. The seeds and the planting and the cul-
tivation were their own. The civil and ecclesiastical power
were in their own hands. The colonies with a single excep-
tion were strictly Protestant, and it must be conceded that

THE COUNTER REFORMATION. 399

their early administration both secular and spiritual tended
to exclude every thing opposed to the genius of their reli-
gion. They were jealous of their rights. They feared po-
pery, many of them having experienced its destructive in-
fluences before they sought this asylum from oppression.
But did they succeed in excluding from their happy shores
the power which they so much dreaded at home ? Let facts
reply. Little more than forty years ago there was no Ro-
man Catholic see in the United States. Now there are
twelve (including an arch-diocese in Baltimore,) comprising
in their jurisdiction all the States and Territories of the
Union. The professed followers of the pope number be-
tween 600,000 and 1,000,000, and are governed by one
arch-bishop, twelve bishops and three hundred and forty-one
priests. They have in their connection four hundred and
one churches, four hundred mass-houses, ten colleges, nine
seminaries for young men, three theological seminaries, two
novitiates for Jesuits, thirty-one monasteries and convents
with acadamies attached for young ladies, thirty seminaries
for young ladies and twenty-nine schools of sisters of char-
ity. With such a catalogue before us how can we be in any
doubt concerning the resources and the aggressive character
of the papacy ? Here is the instrumentality and efficiency
which conquered the Protestant Germans on their own soil.
It would be interesting and profitable to place in contrast the
position and movements of the Romanists in this country and
that which they occupied when they commenced aggressive
operations in the counter Reformation in Germany. This
must be reserved for another occasion. Suffice it to say
that here the civil authorities protect them and they enjoy
the most perfect liberty to act out their system. These pri-
vileges they did not always enjoy during the Reformation.

400 THE COUNTER REFORMATION.

They pursue the same policy which was then pursued, with
none of the disabilities which then surrounded them. Their
schools they locate and open when and where they please,
and they are patronized by Protestants. Money flows in upon
them from foreign sources as it did upon the arch-duke
Charles of Austria, so that they can operate with efficiency
in any direction. There is a great destitution of Protestant
preachers and teachers. At least 2,000,000 are destitute of
the stated preaching of the gospel and 1,500,000 children
from four to sixteen years old are destitute of common
school instruction. In addition to all this a large number of
Protestants are altogether indifferent to religious influence of
any kind and would unite with any denomination which
would promote their secular and political interests. The
Romanists are as compact as ever, and finally the Protestant
church presents as much real discord, although in a more re-
fined form, as it did in the days of the Reformation, whilst
vital piety is sinking under its withering influence. Now if
we reason from the facts as they exist we may justly infer
that popery will continue to increase and with accelerated
rapidity. If we regard the judgments of God visited upon
his people, for their want of piety and zeal in his cause, we
must arrive at the same conclusion. The struggle is at hand,
it is in progress. Any one at all acquainted with the events
transpiring in own country must see, that the Roman hisr-
arcy will not be satisfied until it have achieved its most glo-
rious conquest here or perish in the effort. Like a goodly
vessel equipped and manned at all points, prepared to en-
counter the storm and to catch every favoring breeze, she
sits upon the sea of life separate from every thing but the
element which sustains her, waiting her time. And when
the favored moment arrives with all her sails set she will
press into port or be cast stranded on the beach.

THE LIAR-MURDERER.

BY ROBERT J. BRECKINRIDGE, D. D.

Our blessed Redeemer has summed up in a single verse
(John viii. 44,) the two great, essential characteristics of the
enemy of souls. He is the father of lies; he is, from the
beginning, a murderer. Woful combination ! A mind im-
pervious to truth ; a heart steeled against goodness. Such
is Satan ; the union of all that is false, with all that is malig-
nant.

From the creation of man, this faithless and pitiless enemy
has pursued his steps. Endowed with transcendent force,
urged forward by undying restlessness, laboring with sleep-
less energy, grasping at the universal dominion of nature,
panting for the eternal ruin of human kind, eager only to
dishonor the glorious name and works and truth of God,
this great and bad spirit, leading his immense, infernal hosts,
seeketh only and seeketh ceaselessly whom he may devour,
what he may pollute, how he may destroy. In Eden man
listened to his seductions, and the wrath and curse of God
against our undone race, was the first trophy of the great
liar-murderer in his pursuit of poor humanity. From Adam
to Noah, " prince of this world," he nurtured it for that
great catastrophe — which found eight souls with God, and
sent untold myriads to wo. From Noah to Abraham he se-
duced another world to perdition, and gloated once more,
over the carcases of a nation putrid around the Red Sea,
over the bones of seven nations more which might have
paved Canaan, and over fallen Israel, save two men. The

402 THE LIAR-MURDERER.

law itself, while it made sin abound, made the abounding
triumphs of this demon of falsehood and blood but the more
apparent ; and when the God-man came to his own, even his
own received him not, and the chosen people and visible
church of the adorable God so delivered itself up to hell-
engendered madness, that they shouted — " not Christ — but
Barabbas, — we have no king but Caesar — upon us and upon
our children be his blood !" Oh! ruthless, piteous day ! Ye
will trust Satan and not Jehovah ? Oh ! people laden with
sin ! And ye will trust him still, after eighteen centuries of
tears ? Ye will have Barabbas the murderer, Barabbas the
rebel, Barabbas the robber, the notable Barabbas will ye
have ; but Christ ye will not have ? And so for weary cen-
turies, victims all the while of robbers, seditions, blood-
guiltiness, and all notable villanies — ye choose Barabbas still !
Ye will have no king but Caesar? And where is king Caesar
now — and where are your father's fathers — and all who, be-
lieving Satan, made and have kept that league with hell ? —
Ye will share with the red dragon, the shame of that pre-
cious blood ? Ye will hang its infinite penalty for everlast-
ing ages around the necks of children's children ? Oh !
day of black renown to the murderer-liar, which gave him
the dominion of an apostate church at the moment that he
was cast out from being the prince of an apostate world !

But all these triumphs cannot satisfy his vast, capacious
perfidy. Ruin in Eden, extinction almost total of the Ad-
amic world, and pollution scarcely less complete of the Noac-
ic — desolation to Israel — the blood of Calvary itself — these
satisfy not ; for the seed of the woman may yet bruise the
serpent's head. Again the mysterious wickedness — the mys-
tery of iniquity — the vigour of the liar-murderer begins to
work. He has defeated the covenant of works ; why not de-
feat the covenant of grace ? He has won one church ? why not

THE LIAR-MURDERER. 403

win another? He has persuaded them that were once God's
people, to reject and crucify their promised Lord ; why may
he not corrupt those who once were not God's people, to re-
nounce him who was crucified for them? He may — he can
— he will — alas ! he did.

Forty days and nights, in the wilderness, he struggled
personally for the overthrow of the God-man. Defeated,
overcome, confounded, he, believing and trembling, yet ab-
horring and dreading, returned no more in person, till the
fearful hour of the bloody sweat in Gethsemane. But he
had his representative even amongst the chosen twelve ; for
he who was the truth said even to Peter " Get thee behind
me Satan," and of Judas " One of you is a devil;" and into
this arch traitor's heart, did the liar-murderer put the hellish
purpose to betray the Lord of glory. Can it be that even
his cruelty relented ? That even his perfidious heart was
appalled ? Or did he see dimly that this frightful crime —
God's chosen people murdering God's only son, — was more
than even divine long suffering could endure, and must be
pregnant with results in some way answerable to its own
awful nature ? Fearing to consummate an act whose import
must be tremendous and might not be comprehended — can it
be that even he did at the last moment falter, and seek delay
for further knowledge, and move the stern Roman to pause
amid the vehement clamor for the blood of Jesus, and stir
up the wife of Pilate by horrible visions, to interpose her
woman's intercession for the just one? He remembered
Eve, by whom he had set up his dominion over the world.
Did he seek, through Pilate's wife, to arrest what he began
to see might be its overthrow ?

The rending of the veil of the temple, the quaking of the
earth with inward terror, the sun hiding in darkness his glo-
24

404 THE LIAR-MURDERER.

rious light and refusing to make manifest the unparalleled
deed — death trembling as one conquered and relaxing his
stiff, relentless grasp — the dead walking forth, awful amid
the frighted multitudes — the manifest glories of the risen and
ascended Saviour — the sublime wonders of Pentecost — the
perpetual witness of God himself by countless signs, cap-
tivity itself led captive, and gifts to men, priceless and innu-
merable; all these things only rilled the soul of the liar-
murderer with new conceptions of the extent to which his
Judas, his Sanhedrim, his Herod, his Pontius Pilate, his bad,
rebellious city, his corrupt, clamorous rabble of princes, no-
bles, priests, scribes, pharisees, his hosts of immediate fol-
lowers, his own ravening hate, had utterly undone him !
And so the highest heavens resounded, " Now is come sal-
vation and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the
power of his Christ ; for the accuser of our brethren is cast
down, which accused them before our God, day and night."
And then followed the sorrowful lament, " woe to the inhab-
itants of the earth, and of the sea ! for the devil is come
down unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth
that he hath but a short time." (Rev. xii. 10, 12.)

The judgment of the world had set ; the deliverer of it
had been offered up ; the prince of it was judged ; the great
assize of forty centuries was closed ; the cause of poor hu-
manity, wdrich to men and angels seemed so often lost, was
won on Calvary; the great paradox was solved, — God's ha-
tred to sin, his love to sinners ; the Lamb of God who ta-
keth away the sins of the world, was slain ; from thenceforth,
what remained was for the crucified one to establish his con-
quests, to gather in his elect, to draw all unto him. Satan
has lost the world. Henceforth his war is against the fol-
lowers of the Lamb. He musters all his strength to seduce,

THE LIAR-MURDERER. 405

to corrupt, to betray, to murder saints. He will be an an-
gel of light — he will sit in the temple of God — he will pro-
fess that he is a God — he will conceal his lies, uttering them
in hypocrisy — he will do wonders so cunningly that though
they be feigned they shall almost deceive the elect — he will
even be like the Lamb in his outward pretendings, and sub-
due to whispers his dragon voice — he will be servant of the
servants of God — apostle and successor of apostles — if a
prince, prince only of apostles that he may be vicar of Christ
— he will draw the followers of Christ to himself that he may
more safely and surely lead them to Christ — he will so love
the saints that he will teach the living ones to worship those
that are dead — so reverence Jesus that he will cause all men
to worship his mother, his cross, the very bread and wine
that represent his sacrifice — he will be so careful of God's
honor that he will conceal his written word for fear men
may pervert it — so submissive to his precepts that he will
do nothing without manufacturing a divine, traditional pre-
cept for it — he will be so jealous of the rights of Christ in
and over his church that he will pursue with fire and sword
even the followers of Christ who will not confess allegiance
to Christ's vicar — he will so pity the nations of the earth
that he will accept their submission and direct with absolute
sway all their affairs in such a channel as to glorify St. Pe-
ter in the person of his successor ; in one word the liar-mur-
derer will destroy the earth in the name of the creator, cor-
rupt the church in the name of God, persecute the saints in
the name of Christ, pollute society in the name of religion,
and demonstrate in the name of truth and charity that he is
the father and the pattern of liars and murderers.

The apostle John, as he stood upon the shore of his pri-
son island, saw, rising out of the sea, a beast having seven

406 THE LIAR-MURDERER.

heads and ten horns, upon his horns ten crowns, and upon
his heads the name blasphemy. To this fearful apparition,
" the dragon gave his power, his seat, and great authority."
And men " worshipped the dragon" — and " they worshipped
the beast." " And all the world wondered after the beast."
Rev. xiii. 1 — 4. That dragon, John himself informs us, "is
the devil and satan." Rev. xii. 9, and xx. 2. Upon that
beast, to which the dragon — who is satan — gave " his pow-
er, his seat, and great authority" — John saw, a wroman sit-
ting; a woman "having a golden cup in her hand full of
abominations and filthiness of her fornications ; upon her
forehead a name written, mystery, Babylon the great, the
mother of harlots and abominations of the earth : a woman
drunken with the blood of the saints and with the blood of
the martyrs of Jesus." Rev. xvii. 3 — 6. A woman, is
throughout the scriptures the image of a church; a pure
virgin, a chaste matron, representing a true and faithful
church ; a filthy and vile prostitute representing a corrupt
and apostate church. When John saw a church in league
with hell, polluted beyond utterance, and steeped in the
blood of saints and martyrs, he says, " I wondered with
great admiration." And the angel at once explained to him
the frightful " mystery of the woman and of the beast that
carrieth her." Rev. xvii. 6, 7. The dragon as already
shown, is satan— the liar-murderer. The beast to whom he
gave " his power, and his seat, and great authority," and on
which the woman sat, had seven heads — which represent, —
saith the angel to John, in the first place, " seven mountains
on which the woman sitteth" — (verse 9) — to wit, the seat
of the authority of the polluted, persecuting, hell-leagued
church ; and in the second place, seven forms of supreme
authority which had been and should be manifested in that

THE LA1R-MUUDERER. 407

seat of the woman's accursed authority, (verses 10, 11:)
every head, that is, every mountain and every form of su-
preme authority, written over with — blasphemy — blasphe-
my ! And one of these forms of supreme power, in that
polluted seat of the woman's authority — namely the last form
that shall exist there — is' the beast himself on which she
rode — being of the seven, but himself the eighth ; that is,
essentially the prolongation of the seventh though in truth
an eighth ; a blasphemous pope, successor to a blasphemous
emperor — in the same spot : and he shall be followed by
no new authority — but "goeth into perdition," (verse 11.)
And the beast had ten horns — crowned horns — on every
horn a crown. These, saith the angel, are ten kingdoms,
which as yet, to wit, while he spake to John in Patmos,
have not arisen; they shall arise hereafter when the beast
himself arises; synchronously writh the beast himself shall
the kingdoms of the crowned horns arise ; kingdoms like
minded with the beast and submissive to him; kingdoms
waning with the lamb — but at last to be overcome by him,
(verses 12 — 14;) the kingdoms in short, foretold by Daniel
from of old, and into which the Roman world during the
barbarian inundations, subsided after the fall of the Roman
power in the West — and amidst which and along with which
Anti-christ arose. And what vile, horrible, false, bloody
church that is which this mother of harlots represents —
doubt not — saith the angel, for " the woman which thou
sawest is that great city which reigneth over the kings of
the earth," (verse 18;) that imperial, eternal, all conquering
Rome — standing, wrhile John listened and the angel expound-
ed unto him these awful visions — the undisputed mistress of
the world — wielding an iron sceptre over "peoples, and mul-
titudes, and nations, and tongues," (verse 15.) Behold the

408 THE LIAR-MURDERER.

vast, predicted sway of the liar-murderer over prostrate
nations — by means of that accursed beast — the possessor of
" his power, his seat, and great authority" — upon whom sits
the false, bloody, filthy, apostate, fore-doomed church of
Rome !

In this community, — Catholic — Roman — apostolic — mis-
called a church, miscalled — holy, there are or rather were
two elements, the opposite of each other, which must be
carefully distinguished. There was once a true church of
the Lord Jesus in the city of Rome. Glorious confessors,
blessed martyrs were there, tender virgins there were
thrown to wild beasts in the amphitheatre, that heathen
matrons might feast their eyes on the cruel death pangs of
Christ's gentlest lambs. The noblest Romans of them all
died for a show there, for Jesus' sake — for vile ruffians, the
height of whose dignity and joy — was bread and games pa-
nem ac ludes, — bread and games — panem ac ludes — for
which the unwashen villains sold their country and their lib-
erties, and clamoured day and night. How long the spirit
of this early church lingered in apostate Rome — how far it
mingled with and controled her first crimes and lies — what
remnant of it may yet tinge the lowest border of the lowest
strata of the oppressed nations which own her sway ; is not
for man to say. Come out of her my people — saith the
long-suffering God ; so his poor, scattered, mourning chil-
dren— one here, and one there — may still linger forlorn and
sad amid blackness and ferocity, seeking peace and finding
none. Let the loud cry therefore be lifted up by every voice
in Christendom, — " Come out of her my people, that ye be
not partakers of her sins, and that ye receive not of her
plagues." And if they come not, let their blood be upon
their own heads. Again it is true there were once in Rome,

THE LIAR-MURDERER. 409

those "beloved of God, called to be saints;" for that chief
of saved sinners, " Paul, servant of Jesus Christ" — has left
to us an epistle expressly written to them; and of all the
churches planted by the apostles, of all the epistles written
by the apostles — not one epistle has so marvellously accom-
plished its testimony against those to whom it was writ-
ten,— not one church has so long, so fully, so clearly demon-
strated, by its fate, the truth of God. "Boast not against
the branches," was the faithful and prophetic warning.
" But if thou boast, thou bearest not the root, but the root
thee. Thou wilt say then, the branches were broken off,
that I might be graffed in. Well, because of unbelief they
were broken off; and thou standest by faith. Be not high-
minded, but fear : for if God spared not the natural branches
take heed lest he also spare not thee.'''' Rom. xi. 18 — 21. She
was high-minded, she did not fear, she did boast, she did not
stand by faith ; and God did not spare her. Nay her case
is this much worse than that of the Jews, that they were the
natural branches, and being broken off might be graffed in
again; but Rome is the wild olive, and being broken off, can
be no more graffed back. In all the word of God there is
nothing more remarkable than the utter difference which
everywhere obtains between his mode of speaking of the
Jewish and the Roman apostacies. To the latter there is
neither promise nor exhortation to repent, but only wrath
and wo and the quenchless hate of an insulted God; to the
former, pity, and boundless love, and promises overflowing
with grace, mercy and peace, yet to be fulfilled in peerless
glory. It is not then, this early christian Rome, nor the
feeble remnants of long rejected truth that may yet linger in
obscurity amidst her ruins ; it is papal Rome, the mother of
harlots and of abominations, the. vile, drunken harlot with

410 THE LIAR-MURDERER.

hands and face and raiment smeared with christian blood ;
this is the last great master piece of the liar-murderer.

" When he speaketh a lie he speaketh of his own, for he
is a liar, and the father of it." " There is no truth in him."
(John viii. 44.) Such is the testimony of him who cannot
lie. What truth then could there be in that hateful beast,
whom this father of lies made his vicar, or in that polluted
harlot who sat in infamous state upon him? Dragon, beast,
and harlot — all alike liars — slanderers, perfidious, haters of
all truth, mockers of it, scoffers at it; their lives, their con-
duct, their principles, their speech, their very being, one
constant false witness against the truth, one ceaseless effort
to turn the truth into a lie, — one vast, continual perjury !
Truth, the first, most glorious, most essential attribute of
Jehovah, — the basis of his eternal throne, the very essence
of all his acts, and of every manifestation he maketh of him-
self; truth, the other name of him who is the way and the
life, of him with whom is no variableness, neither shadow
of turning; truth, the glorious object of all intelligent search
in this world of chaos, the image of that sublime rectitude
from which we are fallen, and in being restored to which in
knowledge and holiness, we are restored to the lost image of
God himself; truth, the bond that holds the universe togeth-
er, that keeps man united with man in every portion of his
social existence, that fixes the trust of our hapless race to
the throne of the infinite and eternal one; truth, the grand-
est, the simplest, the loveliest, the sublimest of all abstract
contemplations, the sweetest, the bravest, the wisest, the
most effective of all practical existences ; this is the object
of quenchless abhorrence to the dragon, the beast, and the
harlot, the murderer-liar and his accomplices. What lies has
not Rome told and acted, coined, certified, sworn to with a

THE LIAR-MURDERER. 411

fourfold perjury against God, against his truth, against his
saints, and against human kind ? Is there one attribute of
God that has not been traduced by Rome? One act of his
administration of which she has ever spoken, that she has
not borne false witness of it ? Is there one essential doctrine
of religion, natural or revealed, that she has not denied, per-
verted, or obscured ? One lie of paganism, heathenism, Ju-
daism, or even Atheism itself, which she has not stamped in
its ultimate and essential foundation, if not in its manifested
blackness, with the feigned approval of heaven ? Has she
ever spoken of God's saints but to villify and degrade them?
Has she ever fulfilled one hope of the human race, ever fail-
ed to betray every trust reposed in her, ever omitted to
prove herself false, recreant, faithless, perfidious to all, every
where, in all time, that put confidence in her truth ? Idem —
semper — ubique — is her boastful claim ; and it is true in the
most fearful of all senses. JMystery — blasphemy — mystery —
blasphemy — everywhere, always, unchangeably false ; so pro-
nounceth God against Rome, and so heaven, and earth and
hell attest.

It is an easy transition, to pass on from hatred of truth to
hatred of all who love truth. The murder of God's saints
seems to us poor dim-sighted mortals, a more atrocious form
of crime than the hatred of that divine light in which these
saints walk; but in reality it is a mere dependent accident,
a palpable manifestation, the concrete form of the abstract
enormity. So God puts together the two charges in one
count of the indictment; liar against all truth, perfidious and
pitiless murderer of all who love truth, art thou, oh ! dragon.
This terrible blood-guiltiness of the liar-murderer, has a dou-
ble manifestation; jirst, in his direct shedding of the blood
of the righteous, by means of his agents and followers ; and

412 THE LIAR-MURDERER.

secondly, in his leading on the wicked to such enormous
crimes that the wrath of God overtakes them even here.
Equally in both cases he feasts on blood ; equally he feels
that he has wounded and mocked heaven-descended truth,
whether he obscures her life-giving light and seduces to ruin
those she weeps over while she condemns them, or whether
he gluts his immediate hate in the sufferings of her chosen
ones. When the Adamic world perished — when Egypt
"groaning for burial stenched the air," — when the carcasses
of the whole host of Israel filled the wilderness — when the
seven nations of Canaan were cut off in their sins — when
forsaken Jerusalem was delivered over to crimes and sor-
rows such as the earth had never heard of before and the
besom of destruction swept her clean and utterly ; the wild
and piercing yells which the dull ears of mortals could not
distinguish from the shout of battle and the screams of dy-
ing multitudes — were bursts of demoniac joy from the hosts
of the liar-murderer. Until the personal advent of the God-
man, this — rather than direct persecution — was the common
form in which the dragon exhibited his lust for blood. For
why should he cause the false to shed, before the time, the
blood of the false, when they were alike sweeping one an-
other and the whole world onward to perdition ? But from
that hour when there appeared in heaven that great wonder,
a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet,
and upon her head a crown of twelve stars — travailing in
birth, and pained to be delivered ; and a great red dragon
having seven crowned heads and ten horns; from that. hour
that dragon has stood ready to devour that child, and to
overwhelm that woman, and to consume the remnant of her
seed. (Rev. xii.) From that hour the conflict has not ceased,
and the great spectacle of earth has been the victorious

THE LIAR-MURDERER. 413

struggle of Christianity, first against apostate Judaism — then
against heathen Rome, and now for twelve centuries against
papal Rome.

It was contrary to the spirit of Judaism to persecute; and
it persecuted nothing till its mission was ended, and then it
beuran with the blood of the Son of God. But with the loss

O

of God's spirit, the Jews lost at the same time, the legal
power to slay his servants ; and the christian blood shed
even in Jerusalem was shed by the connivance of heathen
Rome. On Rome therefore, heathen and papal, lies the
blood of fifty millions of christian martyrs; a number greater
than that of all the malefactors executed by public authority
since the world began ! The testimony of the world's hat-
red to God, is greater than the testimony of its hatred to all
crimes united. The blood-guiltiness of Rome, heathen and
papal, is established by an earthly testimony more dreadful
and emphatic, than all the remaining guilt of human kind.

Peter, say the Romanists, founded the church at Rome,
and was its first bishop. In the forty-fifth year of the chris-
tian era he wrote his first epistle from that city ; at least we
must believe it, for so Rome has constantly declared, and
here repeats it to-day in the chronology prefixed the Balti-
more edition of the Rhemish version of the New Testiment,
" published with approbation." The idem, semper, zibique
says so : let us believe it. But Peter says in that epistle (v.
13,) that he wrote it from Babylon; and John proves at
large (Rev. xvii) that mystic Babylon is papal Rome; and
thus the idem, semper, ubique proves that papal Rome is " the
habitation of devils, and the hold of every foul spirit,"
(Rev. xviii. 2,) and that she is " drunken with the blood of
the saints and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus,"
(Rev. xvii. 6, and xviii. 24.) And to this agree all the records

414 THE LIAR-MURDERER.

of earth for twelve hundred years. Blood — hlood — blood;
crucify — crucify — crucify ; to prison with the heretic — to
the rack with the heretic — to hell with the heretic ; accurs-
ed— accursed — accursed let him he — in all the faculties of
his mind — in all the powers of his soul — in all the affections
of his heart — in every hone, every muscle, every tendon,
every nerve and member; excruciate — excruciate — excru-
ciate— men, women, children — families — nations — genera-
tions; kill, slay, burn, ravage, exterminate; anathema — ana-
thema.

Oh! accursed Anti-christ — the brand of God is upon thee.
Is there nothing thou hatest but truth ? None thou wilt in
no wise tolerate but them that are right? How marvellous
is this conjuction ! In all the oceans of blood shed by papal
Rome, not one solitary drop was ever shed but to establish
a lie! Never, even by wondrous accident, did popery set
herself to work, and take to the faggot, the rack, the gibbet,
the cold steel — but that she was wrong ; out and out wrong,
and the right with her victim. When all the countless
graves over which she has spread bloody winding-sheets
shall burst open, not one murdered tenant of them all but
will hear the voice from the great white throne, saying —
" bad you may have been, but Rome was worse ; wrong you
may have been, much and often, but you died in the right,
and your innocent blood is clotted on the hands and face of
the drunken harlot." Oh ! accursed Anti-christ, why did
you shed, for centuries together, the blood of those poor
Greeks who professed to love Jesus, because they would
not worship images, nor bow down to pictures ? Why did
you desolate Europe with countless woes and crimes, in the
fierce wars about investitures? Why did you marshal the
almost uncounted millions of Europe's deluded chivalry,

THE LIAR-MURDERER. 415

upon the embattled hosts of Asia — for a hundred and fifty
years together — making the universe one great place of
skulls, in those fearful crusades to protect idolatry ? Why
did you exterminate with ruthless fury the faithful and inof-
fensive Vaudois? Why did you uproot and murder the Bo-
hemian people — the faithful and heroic followers of Huss ?
Why did you put out in blood the reviving cause of God in
Spain, in Italy, in so many parts of Germany three centuries
ago ? Why did you butcher the poor Hugenots — the Hol-
landers— the Protestants of Ireland ? Oh ! why, for a thou-
sand years together, have you, in cold blood, racked and
tortured and burned, by means of the Inquisition — the scat-
tered children of the most high God — in every nook and
corner of the earth to which your bloody hands could reach?
Oh ! accursed Anti-christ — vicar of the liar-murderer, idem,
semper, ubique, innocent blood cryeth against thee ; innocent
blood with which thou hast filled the earth, and polluted the
sanctuary of Christ, and hid the face of heaven's mercy from
thee forever. The loud and bitter cry of innocent blood, is
lifted up against thee from the face of the whole earth — and
from the breadth of the whole heavens, and from beneath
the throne of God on high ! Innocent blood, which God
would not forgive to Jerusalem — which he will never for-
give to thee !

Yes, that cry will be heard ; surely will it be heard ; sure-
ly will God avenge his own elect. The great and terrible
day of God draweth on apace. What did God do to his
enemies when he brought his people out of Egypt ? What,
when he brought them into Canaan? What, when he open-
ed wide the door to the Gentiles ? Alas ! alas ! then, what
will he not do when he comes of set purpose to establish in
glorv his down trodden saints, and to take vengeance on all

416 THE LIAR-MURDERER.

his and their enemies ? Who can abide the day of the wrath
of God Almighty? How will the liar-murderer endure his
prison house, and his eternal lake of fire? And thou accur-
sed Anti-christ, how wilt thou endure that day, when the cry
will be, " Rejoice over her, thou heavens, and ye holy apos-
tles and prophets ; for God hath avenged you on her." (Rev.
xviii. 20.) And the response will echo back throughout the
universe, " Alleluia, salvation, and glory, and honor, and
power unto the Lord our God ; for true and righteous are his
judgments ; for lie hath judged the great whore which did
corrupt the earth with her fornication, and hath avenged the
blood of his servants at her hand." Alleluia; the smoke of
her torment riseth up for ever and ever. Alleluia ; the Lord
God omnipotent reigneth. Amen: Alleluia. (Rev. xix. 1 — 6.)

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